01x12: Welcome to my own personal little hell
by Gabrielle Henson
Summary: 12th episode in the 'Rocky path' series. Tara may have cured Faith from Kira's spell, but the Slayer appears to suffer unexpected side effects for herself and Tara...
1. Teaser

_Disclaimer : Everyone knows who own Buffy and co ! Let's say it, it's not me!_

_ This story is the 12th episode in a series called 'Rocky path' that begins around one year after 'Chosen'_

_( I strongly recommend to read the 11 first episodes to understand that one) _

_You can check the series out on my website. (see the url in my profile)  
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_Thanks to everyone who left feedback about the last episode._

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The morning was bright and sunny. At last, it had stopped to snow for more than a few hours and even if it was still cold outside, Tara had decided the sun shining brightly above their heads announced a good day. She looked up at the sky again and smiled lightly. Not a cloud in sight. She looked down at the bag of doughnuts she held and tightened her grip a little around it as she caught sight of the hostel. She wondered if Faith would be up now and if she would feel better than she had the evening and night before. Faith might not be the talker type – just as Tara herself – but the blonde had learned to recognize when something was wrong with her. And since she had woken the brunette from the nightmares where Kira had trapped her into the day before, Faith was even more silent than she usually was. Tara hoped that some doughnuts would cheer the Slayer up.

When she pushed the door of the room they shared at the hostel, Tara felt relieved to see that Faith was not in bed anymore but that her clothes were still scattered on the floor. The blonde stopped by the bathroom's door and heard the sound of the shower. She went to the dresser where she put the bag of doughnuts down, then waited for Faith to exit the bathroom. Which happened shortly after Tara had returned.

Faith opened the door and appeared in the room, wrapped in two towels. She did not pay any attention to Tara and collected her clothes on the floor before disappearing again in the bathroom. She came back a few minutes later, all dressed, her hair still wet hanging freely on her shoulders.

"Hey," Tara greeted her when she understood Faith would not be the first to talk. "Good night?"

Faith looked up at her but did not answer and just shrugged.

"Whatever" she muttered finally as she rummaged into her bag, looking for something.

"I've brought these," Tara announced, waving the bag of doughnuts in Faith's direction. "Thought you could use some pastries to start this beautiful day"

She clearly intended her tone to be cheerful and happy but it did not impress Faith at all. The Slayer looked up again at the doughnuts but did not gesture toward them nor show any sign of interest.

"How have you paid them?" she asked briskly.

Tara was taken aback and her face crumpled at the Slayer's harsh question.

"With money?" she answered lamely with a crooked halting smile.

It did not amuse Faith at all.

"We're gonna run out of cash real soon if you keep buying useless things like that," said the Slayer in a severe tone, without looking at the blonde.

Tara's mouth opened wide in shock at the brunette accusation. Somewhere between Cleveland and here by Trillium Lake, she had forgotten how harsh Faith could be sometimes.

"I…I…" she said, unable to form a complete sentence.

Finding herself at a lack for words while Faith was still rummaging in the bag without looking at her, Tara finally shut her mouth and clenched her teeth. She sighed quietly, looked down at the bag of doughnuts and thought that she would be unable to eat every of them if Faith decided to ignore Tara's kind gesture. The blonde chose to drop the matter for the time being and to try another conversation's subject.

"So, are we heading to San Francisco?" she asked tentatively.

"Now?" Faith asked and her head jerked up. "I don't think so," she added almost at once. "Now that the super-evil bitch is gone with all her conjured monsters, I mostly feel like doing what we came for at first."

Tara raised a quizzical eyebrow at this.

"Which is?" she asked.

"Thought that was your thing," replied Faith blankly. "Having a few days of quietness in a quiet place."

"Yeah," Tara approved. "That can only do us good."

"Just a day or two though," resumed the Slayer. "Then we'll have to move and I'll have to find a job to get some money. We can't live with what Giles gave us for ever."

"I know," Tara answered and looked down. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Forget it," Faith interrupted icily. "I'll take care of that in time."

She closed the bag after retrieving a pair of socks she slipped on quickly along with her boots. Tara gazed at her lacing her shoes for a short moment, making up her mind about what she was about to tell Faith.

"Faith, what happened..." she started, her voice faltering slightly. "It wasn't my fault."

The Slayer looked up and stared silently at the blonde for a moment before coming back to her previous action – lacing her shoes.

"Never said it was." She muttered.

"Then, why have you been acting like it is?" Tara finally got the nerve to ask.

"And how I've been acting exactly?" demanded Faith angrily.

Once more, Faith's aggressiveness took Tara aback and the blonde fell silent, unable to find what to reply to Faith's rising anger. The brunette looked at the witch expectantly and seeing the blonde keeping quiet, she eventually turned away from her, grabbed her jacket and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Tara, as Faith was about to leave without another word for her.

"I'm going for a walk."

"When are you going to be back?" Tara demanded again, Faith crossing the doorway.

"I'll be back for lunch I guess. See you later."

And before Tara could say anything else, she was gone. The blonde remained staring at the closed door for a moment, still firmly clutching the bag of doughnuts. She finally plopped down on the bed and bit her lower lip with resignation.


	2. Act 1

Tara remained still sitting on the bed for minutes, seemingly thinking about her previous conversation with Faith, and she looked utterly defeated at the thought. They used to quarrel a lot but as they had grown more comfortable with each other as time had passed, Tara had though that time was behind them. A tiny grain of sand had just stalled the fragile relationship they had built over the months together.

Tara considered her bag of doughnuts, the most recent proof of that observation and sighed deeply. Never before, she had needed to tame the Slayer. Mostly, Faith had even been the one trying to tame her when she felt so lost and stranger to herself at the beginning. The thought depressed her even more and she decided she needed to do something to change her mind, instead of just waiting for Faith to return as grumpy as she was when she left.

She stood up, put her coat on, grabbed the bag of doughnuts and headed for the door. She left the hostel quickly and walked at a quick pace toward Mrs Applefresh's bookshop. If Faith did not want her doughnuts, maybe the bookshop owner would be pleased to share them with her.

When Tara pushed the bookshop's door open, the woman was in the storeroom. She emerged from behind the counter as Tara reached it.

"Good morning my dear," Mrs Applefresh greeted the blonde witch with a smile. "Beautiful day isn't it?"

Tara nodded and smiled back.

"Good morning," she answered. "How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you," the woman replied. "How's your friend?"

"A little grumpy I'm afraid" Tara responded honestly.

Mrs Applefresh gave her a sympathetic nod.

"It happens sometimes with that kind of spell."

"Oh with her it's more often than sometimes and she doesn't need a spell" said Tara, rolling her eyes slightly.

"Grumpy people," chuckled Mrs Applefresh. "They make us crazy"

Tara nodded thoughtfully and remained silent. The bookshop owner waited for her to say something, but seeing the younger woman lost in thoughts, she resumed:

"Do you need something my dear?" she asked gently.

"Oh, not really," answered Tara, coming back to reality.

She waved the bag of doughnuts under the woman's nose.

"I just came to share those with you" she explained, and felt herself lame. "Well, to tell the whole truth, Faith didn't want them, so I suppose it could be a good idea to have them with you."

The woman smiled warmly to ease Tara's awkwardness.

"That's really sweet of you," she said. "Just come with me in the storeroom, I was unpacking a delivery that's arrived this morning."

"Certainly," Tara answered, following the woman as she did what she said. "I can help you with this if you wish me to."

"It's a lot of work," Mrs Applefresh replied. "I don't want to waste your time, you probably have better things to do."

"Absolutely not," contradicted Tara. "And work will be good. I need to work."

"Then your help will be greatly appreciated."

They entered the storeroom and Tara understood that the bookshop owner was not lying: the two of them would probably need all the morning to overcome the task to sort all the books and items the woman had received. As far as Tara was concerned, that was a good thing: at least, she would not spend her morning thinking about what to do to get Faith to talk to her again.

"So, the spell worked as expected?" Mrs Applefresh asked some time later as each woman was unpacking her own cardboard box.

"It worked like a charm," answered Tara sarcastically. "Woke Faith from her catatonic state and she's very much back to her own self."

Mrs Applefresh noticed the irony in Tara's reply and smiled reassuringly.

"It's a very invasive spell as you must know. Some people need some time to adjust. She'll come around. She just needs some space right now."

"I guess," Tara replied, stopping her work as she did. "She doesn't know anything about magic. Must be hard for her to understand what really happened. Well, I hardly figure it myself!"

"How did this happen by the way?" the bookshop owner asked. "I realize I've not even thought to ask you this before."

"Another witch put a spell on her," Tara answered after a short time of hesitation. "She was out looking for a fight and Faith was there."

The woman looked horrified for a second and a bit surprised.

"This kind of witch usually stays in big cities. It's a shame how some witches abuse their powers so badly. Your friend's lucky not to be more seriously injured."

"She's strong" acknowledged Tara.

"A girl of action your friend," commented the woman. "That's how I felt her aura when you came in here the first time."

"She really is," Tara confirmed. "But that witch was pretty powerful and I don't do that much magic these days. Took me too much time to try to stop her. And wouldn't have been able to anyway."

"Does this witch have curly brown hair by any chance? Is she around twenty, twenty-five?" asked Mrs Applefresh, suddenly thoughtful, as if trying to remember something.

"Yeah, that's it." Tara approved. "High cheeks, full lips. Brown eyes. Around this tall."

She gestured vaguely to show how Kira was a little shorter than herself.

"Do you know her?" asked Tara curiously.

"She came at the shop a few days ago," the woman said. "The same day you came the first time if I remember correctly. She even bought a few items here. I can't tell her aura felt aggressive."

"She prided herself on being very good at hiding herself. I didn't even notice she was a witch at first."

"Some witches can do that very well indeed," nodded the bookshop owner. "I think I may have something with her name somewhere in my notes." She thoughtfully added. "I guess you don't know her name if she randomly attacked you?"

"It wasn't exactly random." Tara answered. "She said her name was Kira. Don't know more than that."

"I'll take a look," Mrs Applefresh replied, heading to the shop's counter.

She rummaged for minutes in some drawers, then finally waved a piece of paper victoriously.

"Here it is," she announced, coming back toward Tara. "Kira Braghan." she read. "I chitchatted with her a few minutes, she was quite nice. I remember she said she was from Portland."

"She mentioned that to Faith too I believe" Tara confirmed. "With her name, maybe we'll be able to get our hands on her."

"Revenge is not something you should seek," advised the woman wisely. "Especially if she's powerful and dangerous. But you could try to contact the coven in Portland and see if they have knowledge of her."

"There's a coven in Portland?" Tara asked.

"There is," confirmed Mrs Applefresh. "I was part of it myself until a few years ago. I'll write you the name and number of someone you can contact there."

Tara nodded and remained still behind the woman while she wrote something on a blank sheet. When she was done, she turned round to the blonde and handed her the piece of paper.

"Here it is." She said. "I hope they know her and will be able to do something about her."

Tara nodded again and folded the paper before putting it away in one pocket of her coat.

"Thank you very much."

"It really is nothing," Mrs Applefresh waved it off.

They came back to the storeroom where they shared some of the doughnuts Tara had brought while unpacking again the bookshop delivery. It was already 1pm when they finally neared completing the task.

"Goddess!" Tara exclaimed when she saw the wall-clock. "I'm sorry but I'm running late. Faith must be waiting for me. I should go."

"It's not a problem my dear, " the woman kindly answered. "I was about to tell you it was late."

Tara hurriedly slipped her coat back on and took her leave, but not before Mrs Applefresh insisted on paying her for her work of the morning. Despite Tara's growing protests, the woman complied to let her leave only when she managed to put a few bills into the blonde's hand. The door of the bookshop closed on her and Tara found herself alone in the street. She sighed deeply, buried the bills in her jeans pocket and hurried along the road toward the hostel.

***

Opening the door of her room, Tara prepared herself to be welcomed by a very icy and upset Faith, and was surprised to find the room deserted. She went down the stairs again and headed to the common room where she thought she would find the brunette at lunch, but the Slayer was nowhere to be seen. She made up her mind to ask the hostel employees if they had seen Faith this morning, and one of them informed her that the brunette had left the hostel about two hours before and had not been seen since then.

"Two hours…" muttered the blonde. "Where the hell has she been?"

Tara thanked the young man for the piece of information and looked at the wall-clock again. It was now around 1pm30 and Tara's heart squeezed at the thought that the Slayer should be hungry and should already have returned from wherever she had gone. It was not in Faith's habit of skipping a meal. For a second, Tara imagined that Kira had returned and met Faith again.

"I would have noticed if she was back," she scolded herself. "She wasn't so much in the hiding in the end."

She nevertheless decided to go looking for her friend. Maybe the Slayer had decided to let off steam by visiting some graveyard.

"Okay, in broad daylight," Tara whispered for herself. "She wouldn't find much."

But even if it was very unlikely that Faith had gone there, Tara headed toward the edge of the forest where the village's small cemetery was located. It was empty, as expected.

Without really thinking about what she was doing or where she was going, the blonde went into the forest, following the path leading to the lake. Her intuition was proven right as Tara found Faith by the lake. The Slayer sat cross-legged at the very end of the pontoon and looked deeply lost in thoughts. Tara approached carefully but not too silently to make sure Faith would hear her coming and would not be surprised. She stopped two feet behind the brunette and waited for a minute or so before addressing her:

"I thought you were coming back," she said gently, trying to suppress any hint of reproach in her voice.

"I've been needing to be alone," replied Faith blankly. "That place was kind of good for that"

"You know…" Tara hesitantly began. "About Kira, and what happened with her…"

"Don't," Faith interrupted harshly. "I really don't want to hear the 'I told you so' speech"

"That's not what I've meant to tell you," Tara said. "I mean… I told you she was weird and all but really, she wasn't that much"

"That's not my opinion" Faith scoffed.

"Well, when I told you, I haven't that many reasons to think she was. You were right, she was pretty cool."

"Don't try to cheer me up Blondie," Faith snapped. "It's boring and I don't need that."

"What I mean," Tara resumed, biting her lip. "The weirdness I felt, it was about her magic. I felt something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I should have known straight on what she was."

"Yeah," confirmed Faith without turning to her. "Would have saved us a lot of trouble."

"And I shouldn't have hesitated that much when she hurt you. I should have magically reacted a lot quicker."

"Yeah" Faith hissed between her clenched teeth. "You really should have."

Tara bit her lip again and kept silent, unable to find something else to say confronted to such coldness from Faith.

"I'm sorry," she finally said after a rather long silence. "I promise I'll be better next time."

"Next time?" Faith exclaimed sarcastically. "You really think there'll be a next time?"

"Well, you never know…" Tara wavered.

"Believe me, if I see that bitch again, witch or not, I'll beat the crap out of her before she has time to open her mouth."

She stood suddenly and turned round to face Tara.

"But if it ever comes to such a crap again, doing your thing without your playing all shy and stuff would be great" Faith finished.

She walked over Tara to leave the pontoon and shoved her off her way, as Tara didn't move fast enough to make her room to pass. The blonde was so surprised that her right foot slipped on the icy wood and she almost fell of the pontoon. Luckily enough for her, Faith reacted quickly to catch her before she fell onto the frozen surface of the lake. As soon as Tara had recovered her balance, she let go off her. Then she took two or tree more steps to get away but suddenly froze and stumbled, holding her head in her hands, suffering of a terrible headache.

"Faith, are you okay?" the Slayer heard.

She frowned, the voice appearing to be a little girl's voice and not Tara's.

She turned carefully her head and saw that a blonde little girl wearing a worn flowery dress was standing on the spot where Tara was the second before. She frowned even more and stood back up a little to face the new comer.

"Tara, where are you?" she asked.

But her headache intensified and Faith bent with the pain again.

"God!" she muttered, closing her eyes.

"Faith, what's going on?"

She opened her eyes again and saw Tara beside her, looking at her worriedly.

She turned back where the little girl had been standing the second before, but she was gone. The headache faded and Faith stood back up before looking all around them. They were alone.

"It's nothing," she said to answer Tara's question. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Faith shrugged, still looking around. "Let's get back"

***

Once back at the hostel after a short, absolutely silent walk, Tara dragged Faith to the restaurant for them to have lunch. The brunette reluctantly followed the blonde, however Tara knew she was hungry at the noisy sound of her growling stomach.

"It's time for lunch," Tara ordered as they both sat at a table near the window.

As Faith started to give a look at the menu, the blonde witch buried her hand in her pocket, retrieved the bills given by Mrs Applefresh and put them down on the table. Faith looked up from the menu and stared at the money, bewildered.

"What's this?" she grimaced. "You've held up an old lady or what?"

Tara chuckled at this but her smile did not ease Faith's mood as she had expected and she returned to serious mode to answer:

"Not exactly. Mrs Applefresh paid me for helping her to unpack her delivery this morning."

"Oh" just said Faith. "Very well."

"So, let's have a good lunch."

"Why not." Approved Faith, her tone still cold but somewhat a little friendlier than previously.

Saying this, she returned at the menu and only looked up next when a waitress came to take their orders.

The lunch was mostly silent. Tara quickly overcame her omelette and her salad while Faith swallowed her steak. Then the blonde stared bewildered at Faith eagerly eating her gigantic portion of french fries and couldn't help a fond smile at the brunette's appetite. When the Slayer was done, not a crumb was left in her plate. When the waitress came to take their plates back to the kitchen, her eyes opened wide in surprise at the emptiness of Faith's plate.

"Woo!" she commented with a smile. "You must have been starving!"

Faith did not answer and Tara just smiled politely at her. She came back a few minutes later with a coffee cup she put in front of Faith and a tea one for Tara. Faith lit a cigarette and leaned back in her chair while Tara sipped carefully small mouthfuls of her tea. The Slayer did not appear to notice when Tara frowned at her cigarette. As they were now alone in the restaurant room and nobody came to protest about the smoke, Tara decided to drop the matter.

"When I was at Mrs Applefresh's," Tara carefully began. "She told me Kira came at her bookshop before we met her."

Faith jerked her head round at Tara and her curious brown eyes met Tara's blue ones. The blonde had certainly roused the Slayer's curiosity.

"Really?" Faith questioned. "Something interesting?"

"She bought a few items at the shop. Mrs Applefresh talked a little with her and she has a bill with her name."

Faith's expression hardened when she simply asked:

"So?"

"Her name is Kira Braghan. She told Mrs Applefresh too that she is from Portland. Mrs Applefresh's given me the phone number of someone from the Portland's coven to warn them that girl's dangerous."

Saying this, Tara got the phone number out of her pocket to show it to Faith.

"I'd rather take care of her myself." Faith spoke up. "I owe her some ass-kicking."

Tara grimaced slightly but she had expected the way the Slayer would react to that piece of news. She nevertheless tried to reason with her.

"Faith, I'm not sure it's a good idea…" she said in a halting tone. "She's proven she's powerful and willing to use her power to hurt people. We didn't…"

"I'm not fool enough to rush into her blindly and to give her the opportunity to play her game a second time." Faith interrupted coldly. "I'm going to call that guy to have a hint about where I can find her. And when we do find her, we'll be ready for payback."

Tara shivered at the Slayer's dark tone and she could not help but ask:

"We?"

"Of course we," Faith answered without blinking. "You said earlier you'd be better next time."

"And you said there wouldn't be a next time." Tara remarked.

"Well, consider I was wrong then," The brunette retorted, seizing the piece of paper on the table and starting to stand up. "I'm…"

She suddenly interrupted herself and sat back, her face wincing in pain.

"Faith?" Tara said with concern. "Is something wrong?"

"Jesus, my head!" the brunette replied, taking said-head between both hands.

"You're having a headache?" Tara asked.

Faith did not answer. She bent forward a little more and covered her ears with her hands, as if to shut every sound around away from her. She closed her eyes but it did not make the pain fade away neither stopped the muffled buzzing in her ears.

"Faith?" she heard Tara asking worriedly. "What's happening?"

The Slayer blinked and just as before when both girls were by the lake, she caught a glimpse of a little girl wearing a flowery dress where Tara had been sitting. This time, the figure vanished as quickly as it had appeared to be replaced by Tara's worried one standing above her.

"What's happening?" repeated the blonde, her voice full of concern.

"Dunno," whispered Faith, trying to fight the pain as best as she could. "My head's gonna explode…"

"We should get you upstairs. You should lay for a bit," suggested Tara, extending her hand toward Faith and putting it reassuringly on the Slayer's shoulder.

"Tara!" Suddenly shouted a male voice angrily.

Both girls jumped in surprise and jerked their heads round together. They browsed the restaurant, looking for who had just loudly called Tara's name. The only other persons there were the waitress and the cook and they were chatting quietly at the end of the room, not paying any attention to both friends. Finally, their eyes met again.

"Did-did you hear that?" breathed Tara, her voice shaking slightly.

"Someone calling your name?" asked Faith, as if unsure of what she had heard.

"Yes, someone shouting my name..." murmured the blonde, still looking around. "It doesn't appear to be them" she added, gesturing to the waitress and the cook.

"And if it's not them, they don't seem to have heard anything..." commented the Slayer. "It's like we're the only ones to have heard that."

"It's kind of scary." murmured Tara.

Faith did not answer and grimaced again.

"Your head's still hurting?" asked the witch.

"A lil'bit," whispered Faith, wincing in pain as she answered.

"A little bit," commented Tara, slightly shaking her head. "Let's get you upstairs. You should rest. You might have caught a cold"

"I'm a Slayer. Slayers don't catch colds," protested Faith.

But as her headache intensified, she let Tara drag her upstairs and indeed found the bed very welcoming. She flopped onto the mattress with delight, lay between the sheets and closed her eyes. Tara drew the curtains closed to darken the room and sat on the chair with a book near the window to get some light to read. As a nearly perfect silence enveloped the room and eased her suffering head, Faith soon fell asleep.

***

She awoke in a very different place and apparently in a very different time. She lay in the grass under a large willow tree whose leaves softly rustled with a light breeze above her head. The sun shone in a lightly clouded sky and the weather was definitely better than the one they had been experiencing these days. In the distance, she could hear the muffled sound of children playing somewhere. Around her were only grass fields dotted with group of trees as far as the eye could see. The place looked somewhat unreal.

She should have felt surprised or disoriented, but there was something peaceful about this place, and Faith would probably have fallen asleep again if it was not for the shouting that suddenly rang out, breaking the silence.

"She did it Dad!" screamed a little boy in a high-pitched, appalled voice. "I swear she did!"

Faith jerked her head around and rose on her elbows when she saw a family walking toward her. They were four members: the little boy who was probably less than ten years old, was brown-haired like his father whom he was talking to, while gesturing to his sister. It was hard to tell if the blonde little girl was older or younger than him, but right now, she was probably at fault, seeing the way she did not dare to look at her father. Standing slightly behind her husband, the mother was as blonde as her daughter, with soft and kind features, and looked alternately between her children and their father, probably trying to guess who was telling the truth.

"Looks like the perfect family..." scoffed Faith at the sight.

They were now just a few feet from her and none of them seemed to pay any attention to the brunette. She might as well not have been there. Faith curiously observed the scene playing under her eyes, and every protagonist. A strange sense of familiarity oozed from the woman, from her soft features, her thin eyelashes, her long blonde hair, her creamy skin, her high cheekbones.

"She did it Dad!" repeated the boy, now fuming impatiently.

The father pondered her son's attitude for a moment before asking in a severe tone:

"Did she?"

The boy frantically nodded and the man turned to his daughter:

"Did you Tara?"

Faith did not jump at the name. She had kind of expected it to come. She nevertheless sat up to have a better view of the family and especially of the little girl. But she had no luck: the kid bent her head down and her long hair fell in front of her face, forming a protecting veil from unwelcome looks. She did not answer at first, only staring at her feet.

"I am asking you a question, young girl," said the father harshly, arching a severe eyebrow at her daughter. "And I do not wish to wait for my answer for too long"

Faith straightened up at the tone and she suddenly felt a little cold. She looked up and noticed that the sky had turned cloudy and grey. Tiny raindrops began to fall. The whole family but Tara looked oblivious to the change. The little girl looked up as discreetly as possible while her parents and her brother stared at her expectantly.

"Do I have to repeat myself Tara?" asked her father threateningly now.

Looking at her feet again, the girl shook her head slightly and stammered something that did not quite satisfy her father, as he finally repeated, in an even harsher tone than previously:

"I can't hear you girl, did you perform magic?"

Tara slowly nodded her head and the expression on the father's face hardened again. The mother stepped then closer and spoke up for the first time.

"She probably did not in purpose…" she tried weakly.

Her husband cast her a reproachful glance before turning to the kid again, and the woman stepped back to her original place.

"You know the rules Tara, don't you?"

Again, the little girl slowly nodded without looking up at her father who piercingly stared at her. He appeared to wait for her to say something for her defence, and so was the mother, gazing hesitantly between the two of them and fidgeting in her place as if wishing to intervene but not daring to. But the girl remained stubbornly unmoving and silent. Her father eventually tore her gaze off her, turned his back on his family and started to walk, saying:

"Then, we shall see what it is advisable to do when we get home."

Every other member of the family instantly followed him and Faith just stared at all of them going away under the sweet rain and breeze.


	3. Act 2

Faith awoke at once and sat up in her bed. She felt a little disoriented as her gaze focused slowly and she took on her surroundings. Beside the window, Tara had given up her reading and curiously looked at her.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked kindly.

It took Faith a second or two to realize she lay in the bed in their Trillium hostel room and not under a willow tree in some magnificent grass field.

"I've just had the weirdest dream," said the Slayer. "You were in there."

"Really?" asked Tara, frowning at the thought. "What was it about?"

"There was this field. Just grass and trees as far as the eye can see. You were there, with your family I guess. You were a kid. It felt so real."

Tara turned pale at this and she closed her book and put it away on the dresser.

"You've dreamt of me as a kid?" she asked doubtfully. "What else?"

"You were getting reprimanded about doing magic or something like that," went on Faith.

Tara looked astonished for a moment, and then she asked again:

"How was that field?"

Faith described the place as she remembered it the best she could and did not notice Tara turning even paler than before.

"What's wrong with that?" finally asked the Slayer, as the blonde remained silent and thoughtful.

"It really looks like a place I was living near when I was a kid," answered Tara.

"So what?" commented Faith, annoyed. "You must have talked about it at some point."

"I sure haven't" replied Tara dryly to Faith's own surprise.

An awkward silence followed, during which both women looked anywhere but at the other.

"Whatever," said Faith. "It's just a dream. A weird dream, but a dream"

She got up and stretched her arms and legs.

"What time is it?" she asked, searching for a wall-clock but finding any.

"Too soon for patrolling," answered Tara while taking a look at her watch.

Faith went by the window and opened slightly the curtains to look outside. As indicated by the sun's position in the sky, the afternoon was about to reach its end.

"Too late to leave today, isn't it?" asked Faith absent-mindedly.

"I guess so," responded Tara. "Especially when we still haven't decided where to go."

"I thought you wanted to go down the coast up to San Francisco?"

"That was a possibility," explained Tara. "But if you feel like doing something else, it's not a problem."

Faith just shrugged.

"It's not like I care that much," she said. "We'll see tomorrow what we do."

She turned round to look around the room, obviously looking for something. Spotting her jacket laying on the floor beside the bed, Faith went to it, rummaged into the pockets and retrieved her pack of cigarettes and her lighter. Then, she came back to the window, opened it, leaned on the nearby wall just behind the witch and lit one cigarette without a word or a glance for Tara. The blonde looked annoyed but not surprised.

"Are you forced to act like I'm not there?" asked Tara after a moment pondering if she would say something or not.

She turned to the Slayer with a raised eyebrow but Faith just dragged another puff and smirked knowingly. Tara sighed but did not insist.

"So, I guess you're feeling better? No more headache?"

"I'm better," replied Faith. "Still feeling a little dizzy though."

She fell silent and dragged some puffs but not without casting discreet glances at Tara from time to time.

"D'you think I owe this to that Kira bitch?" she finally asked bitterly.

Tara was taken aback by the question: she had not thought about that possibility.

"Well..." she hesitantly began. "I don't know. Your headache could be a side effect of her spell. But it could just be a simple headache. You know, with the fight and the cold and all, it wouldn't be that surprising."

"It's not just a simple headache," protested Faith. "There're the dreams and the little girl too."

"The little girl?" Tara asked, frowning.

"Yeah, the little girl," repeated Faith in an evident tone. "'Told you about her."

"No, you didn't," replied Tara, shaking her head. "What are you talking about?"

Faith looked at her with annoyance, convinced she had already told the blonde about her vision.

"I saw her twice," she nevertheless answered. "By the lake and at the restaurant, during lunch."

"You haven't told me before," said Tara.

"Whatever," grumbled Faith. "I just did."

Silence fell again between them, Faith finishing off her cigarette while Tara stared curiously at her. Faith eventually grew uncomfortable under Tara's scrutiny, and as she stubbed out her cigarette butt, she could not help barking:

"What? D'you think I'm nuts or what?"

"No, no, of course not," refuted Tara hastily. "Of course not." She added more softly, putting more certainty in her voice this time.

Faith's expression softened at the kind tone and after a brief hesitation, she asked:

"So, what do you think? Still Kira's work?"

"It's hard to tell," answered Tara in a wavering and unsure tone. "Could really be but…"

"Crap," grumbled Faith, now angry that Tara could not provide a proper answer. "You're a witch or not?"

Tara bit her lip to restrain herself from sighing very loudly.

"I don't want to make a mistake Faith," she tried to explain a moment later. "I didn't see anything like that when I tried to cure the first spell but it doesn't mean Kira didn't conceal another spell within the first one. Some witches can do things like that. But..."

"But you don't know. I get it." the Slayer interrupted. "So, I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens?"

"I can go and see Mrs Applefresh and ask her or borrow some books or..."

"Right. Let's just do that."

Faith stood up straight and reached out at Tara's shoulder.

"Let's go now."

As the precise moment her fingers brushed Tara's collarbone, Faith had the distinct impression that her friend vanished in front of her to be replaced by a young blonde girl, who tentatively asked her:

"Ri-right now?"

***

Faith looked around her. Tara was not here anymore, nor was the hostel room. She was alone at the back-door of a silent wooden house. Behind her was a narrow corridor leading to what looked like a living-room. To the right of the door, was a window showing a faultless backyard bathed in the sweet yellowy light of the end of the afternoon. To the left, was a small laundry room looking out onto the backyard as well. Here, resting against the laundry little pane, was a woman Faith had not noticed at first. The Slayer approached her cautiously, taking very slow steps, scrutinizing her.

She had very long blonde hair, falling straight in her back and at her side, sweet womanly curves concealed in a too large and long dress. Her nose pressed against the pane, she was looking out the window and Faith glanced out to look at what the woman was watching.

Two kids were there and the brunette did not need to recognize the children of the family she had witnessed a little earlier to know it were them. They were both kneeling in the grass, looking closely at something Faith could not quite see from where she stood. The boy was chatting while his sister listened and occasionally nodded. They looked peaceful.

But for some reason, Faith knew there was much to that little scene than a brother and a sister playing together. Turning again to the woman standing beside her, the brunette searched for her face behind her blonde locks and realized she was softly crying, or at the very least she had been crying. Traces of long tears could be seen on her cheeks but she was not sobbing. Faith looked out again, trying to understand what made Tara's mother so sad. Now, the kids were under a high and knotty tree and the boy started to climb it. Tara just looked at him doing so, hands folded in front of her.

Faith turned to the mother again: she had not moved in the slightest.

"So, here you are," said a male voice.

Faith jumped at the sound and turned round sharply. Halfway the corridor stood the father of the family. His hands folded in his back, he stared inquiringly at his wife. She hastily dried her tears from her face and tried to put herself together before turning to him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, arching a questioning eyebrow at her.

"I'm just watching over the kids," she answered quietly.

"Do they need being watched over?"

"Not really," replied the mother, almost whispering, like this was the only way she was used to talk. "But maybe they do all the time." She added thoughtfully the second after.

The man did not answer and moved closer to get a view of the outside. They both looked out the window silently for a moment. The man glanced from time to time to his wife, and Faith was sure the woman had noticed and was trying her hardest to look as casual as possible. As he was unable to restrain himself, the man finally spoke up:

"You know I am right"

The woman hesitantly turned round and gazed at him quietly for a few seconds, probably making up her mind about what to answer.

"She's so young," she eventually said, looking away again.

"If we don't pay attention now, she'll grow out of control before we realize."

"She doesn't have any friend," resumed the woman, turning her head to him. "She never gets the chance to have some fun like kids her age. You could take her to the fair with you and Donnie."

"She does not need friends." Replied the man, his tone intended clearly that he was not to be contradicted. "You know she would have to quit them later anyway. It was hard enough for you, wasn't it?"

She looked away at this and watched the kids outside again. The boy was now higher in the tree and apparently tried to bombard his sister with pine cones.

"Wasn't it?" insisted the man.

"It was" she breathed absent-mindedly in the distance, as remembering said time.

"She's better here to help you than anywhere else" he resumed. "I want her to help you with the house."

"I don't need her today, you could…"

"I won't." Tara's father interrupted, without turning to his wife. "She's staying here."

Saying this, he grabbed the doorknob of the backyard door, opened and stepped outside.

"Donnie!" He called. "We're leaving."

The boy instantly jumped down the tree, stuck his tongue out to his sister and ran happily toward his father. He was welcomed by a slight slap on his head and looked sideways with incomprehension shining in his brown eyes.

"Don't tease your sister," explained his father severely in a reproachful tone. "I don't want you to act like this again, understood?"

The boy nodded pitifully, and cast an angry glance at Tara before following his father inside the house. They both left, leaving the blonde girl alone with her mother. The kid crossed the backyard up to the woman and her mother drew her close and kissed her forehead.

"So, how is your day?" the mother asked gently. "Was Donnie nice to you?"

Tara nodded slightly but her heart wasn't in it.

"He's younger than you are," Tara's mother tried to explain as they were coming inside the house. "He probably needs to assert himself. It'll pass when he grows up."

Tara nodded again and remained silent. Her mother kissed her forehead again, which made the kid smile shyly.

"Father told me the-there was a lo-lot of th-things to do wh-while they were away with Do-Donnie."

"I have a lot of clothes to iron and fold. You can help me with this if you wish. But you're not forced to Tara." Answered her mother quietly. "If you prefer playing in the backyard, just go, I don't absolutely need you."

"I'd rather help you" Tara replied at once.

Her mother smiled at her and took her hand to drag her with her toward the living room. Indeed, a very large basket full of freshly clean clothes was waiting for them. Tara's mother quickly installed the ironing board and got down to the job. The kid waited patiently, standing still at her mother's side, until she was done with a piece of cloth. Then, she cautiously grabbed the cloth and folded it with great care and only put it away in the empty basket when the cloth was as perfect as possible. The woman and the girl repeated the same scenario many times in comfortable silence before Tara looked up at her mother and tentatively asked:

"Why hasn't Dad taken me at the fair with them?"

Tara's mother did not stop her ironing at the words but turned to her daughter with a reassuring smile.

"I think he wanted you to help me with the house."

"He never takes me at the fair when they go. Some girls at the school go to the fair with their family. I'd like to go at the fair sometimes."

"I know, Tara. Your father prefers that you help me. He says it's more important."

The kid looked down again and played distractedly with the cloth she was folding. Her mother watched her discreetly for a moment. She opened her mouth to ask her daughter what she had on her mind, but finally decided against it and kept silent.

"I… I know it's bad…I know it's selfish to wish I could go to the fair instead of helping you with the house." Tara resumed hesitantly. "Is… is that the demon in me talking?"

This time, Tara's mother stopped ironing and put the iron away for the time being. She tried to say something but the words choked in her throat. She took a deep breath, looked briefly away before turning again to the blonde little girl.

"No, Tara, it's not." She answered in a tone she wanted firm. "It's perfectly normal for you to prefer going at the fair. It does not make you a demon at all."

"So… I'm not a demon yet?"

Tara looked expectantly at her mother now, and the woman felt too uneasy for her daughter not to notice. As her mother kept silent, the crooked smile on the kid's face vanished as she breathed:

"Am I?"

"No, no, you're not," hastily denied Mrs Maclay. "Believe me Tara, when I look at you, I see anything but a demon."

"But…" the girl resumed, following her train of thoughts. "Dad keeps telling me that…"

"I know what your father keeps telling us," the mother interrupted, in a harsher voice than she intended.

Tara's face instantly crumpled at the tone, her shoulders slumped and she looked down again. Her mother bit her bottom lip with regret at the sight.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she said, looking away to conceal threatening tears at the corner of her eyes. "What I mean is… you are not a demon baby girl. But your father… He knows – and I know – that you can never know what might happen… We… Magical beings I mean… You must be very careful with magic…"

"I shouldn't perform magic?" Tara cut her short, a hint of panic in her voice. "I like doing magic! It doesn't feel evil but if…"

"You can perform magic Tara. You HAVE to perform magic." Mrs Maclay contradicted firmly. "It's in you. But magic can turn people into demons, it's…"

"It's about magic then?" the kid asked, defeated. "So, if I completely give up on magic, I won't become a demon, right?" she added in a more hopeful tone after a brief pause.

"You can't give up on magic Tara…" whispered Mrs Maclay, looking away again. "It's part of you, of us. You have to learn how to use it, to control it. You have to learn the rules that come with magic."

Having finally managed to chase the tears away, the mother turned again to her daughter and kneeled beside her. She tenderly traced the girl's cheeks with her hand and offered a sweet smile.

"Do you understand Tara?"

The kid nodded thoughtfully and her mother's smile widened.

"So, if I obey to the rules, I might not become a demon?"

The smile on Mrs Maclay's face weakened but she nevertheless breathed "You might" while she drew her daughter in her arms to embrace her. The kid let her do so and wrapped her arms around her mother's shoulders.

"You promise?"

Only the silence answered.

***

An attic. Faith looked around to confirm her first impression and nodded. She was in a dark and rather dirty attic. A young girl was kneeling in the corner of the room opposite to the door. Her long blonde hair, her clear blue eyes and her large worn flowery dress immediately told Faith who she was. Near the girl, two short candles were burning and gave off a strange perfume of fruits and flowers.

The Slayer was not surprised to end up there: for some reason, she had always imagined Tara practising magic, hidden in an attic. She got closer to take a better view and observed the blonde girl carefully reading instructions in an old book whose pages were partially torn up. She might be around eleven or twelve years old; she was tall and developing very feminine curves for her age. She was already becoming the woman she would be later.

"Whatcha doing?" Faith asked after a moment.

"Magic." Tara answered without turning to her. "I'm practising"

"Why are you hiding?"

"Fa-father doesn't like it when I'm practising magic"

"Why is that?"

"Because it's dangerous"

"And that's why you're doing it anyway, uh?" Faith said, cracking an amused smile. "You're into dangerous things, kid, aren't you?"

"No, no, no!" Tara protested so vehemently that Faith was taken aback by the sudden burst of panic in her voice. "I'm not doing anything dangerous! I'm not dangerous! I don't want to be dangerous!"

"Hey, easy girl," Faith tried. "I've never…"

"It's just very little things," Tara resumed, not listening at Faith's attempt of comfort. "Mum tells me that magic is not dangerous if you're careful and respect the rules. I am careful. I respect all the rules she teaches me."

Faith opened her mouth to try to comfort her again but she gave up when her eyes met Tara's wild gaze.

"Okay kid," she simply said. "I believe you"

Tara stared at her for a moment, then, as if she had finally decided Faith was telling the truth, she looked away and returned to her book.

"So, what are you trying to do?" Faith asked and sat near the girl.

"Nothing big," the blonde answered. "A locator spell" she clarified as Faith frowned. "I can locate objects; I've done it many times before. I can even locate animals, I did locate Mr Simmons' dog once but…"

"Who's Mr Simmons?"

"Our neighbor" Tara explained. "He lost his dog once, and he was very sad and Mum and Father went to help to find him but they failed. So I tried the locator spell and it worked and…"

"Have you ever really been so chatty?" Faith interrupted. She could not help herself: Hearing so many words flowing from Tara's mouth was kind of fascinating.

Tara's face crumpled a little and she looked away.

"No," she answered darkly before Faith could apologize for the change in her mood. "I never was. But it's not like you're real."

"Yeah, right." The Slayer admitted. "So, what's special with this locator spell?" she asked after a short pause, hoping somehow that getting back on topic would cheer Tara up again.

"I'm trying to locate a person. It's more difficult with a human being, the flows around humans are different, moving and…"

"You can spare me the details y'know," Faith cut her in. "I really don't get all this magical stuff"

"Magic doesn't have to be 'gotten'," the blonde quietly replied. "It has just to be felt."

"Yeah, whatever" Faith grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"Why I'm here?" the Slayer repeated the question ironically before answering dejectedly: "I'm here because of you. You messed up with your spell is my guess. Or maybe it's still that Kira bitch."

"Dark magic is dangerous"

"You need to tell Kira this instead of me"

"She already knows. She was very careful."

"Careful?" Faith asked curiously.

"Yes," Tara confirmed, while Faith leaned against the wall behind her. "It was not just about hiding her power. She was careful." She paused. "Or very very powerful."

"Great," Faith scoffed. "Either she's careful because she's not too used to dark magic or she's so much into it that she'll kick my ass just snapping her fingers! Make your choice Faith!"

Tara did not answer. She returned to her spell, and did not pay any attention to the Slayer anymore, giving her the distinct impression that this conversation had never happened. She was just getting annoyed with Tara's indifference when the door barged open so briskly that Faith jumped to her feet all at once and stood in fighting stance, ready for anything that might be at the door.

Indeed, it was Tara's father. He looked around the room and when he spotted Tara surrounded by candles with an old book at her feet, his inexpressive features turned to fury while Tara's became utterly terrified. Mr Maclay marched on her and her daughter blew the candles out hastily, as if it could be enough to deny they had ever burned. She closed the book and tried to push it aside under an old sofa to her right but she did not have time. Her father had reached her and he grabbed her carelessly to put her to her feet.

"What were you doing?" he asked her harshly. "Answer!"

"I...I..." she stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.

"Answer!" he shouted, shaking the girl like a rag doll. "What were you doing?"

"I...I..." Tara tried again while looking frantically around, as if looking for an escape.

"Do I really need to ask?" he said dejectedly when she failed again to respond.

He bent over the still smoking candles, knocked them over with the back of his hand and grabbed the half-hidden book, never letting go of the girl.

"Magic! You're doing magic again!"

He turned her to him, squeezing her shoulder until she grimaced in pain.

"What have I told you Tara? What have I ordered you? What have I..."

He was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps and laboured breathing. The man and the girl turned to the door where now was standing Tara's mother. She addressed a quick smile to her daughter and Tara felt immensely relieved at the sight.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, slightly bending her head as she approached.

Tara's father stopped to shake the kid but did not release her.

"Magic again. She's got to be punished"

"Donald, I'm sure it was nothing"

"Magic is not nothing." Mr Maclay snapped angrily. "I've told you many times she should never get into this. You know how dangerous this is. Haven't we told you Tara?" he added, turning from the mother to the kid.

Tara slightly nodded with her eyes fixed on her shoes.

"Then why are you doing this anyway?"

"It... it was nothing... it was harmless... Just a loc-locator spell..."

She looked up and met her mother's eyes. The woman discreetly nodded at her in encouragement.

"Really it's nothing Donald..." Mrs Maclay repeated.

"It's not nothing. Don't you see it? She's hiding to practise magic alone. You said she needed to practise the basics to have a little control over it before it takes control of her and I listened to you. But it's not okay for her to do spells all alone in the attic, especially when I clearly forbid her to."

Mr Maclay eyed her wife from head to toes and the woman remained silent. Then he turned again to the girl:

"You intentionally disobey to a very clear order Tara, though knowing how dangerous and irresponsible your conduct was. You will be punished consequently to your actions. Come with me."

He grabbed her again and took a step toward the door. A terrified glimmer shone in the kid's eyes and she looked at her mother for support.

"Donald, please," the woman tried to interfere. "It's just a stupid spell, nothing big. She probably just tried to do again a spell I taught her before."

He stopped and turned to her, his icy gaze falling upon her. Without thinking, she took half a step back.

"A spell you taught her? Did you teach her spells recently? Did you allow her to practise those spells?"

He looked at her severely and mother and daughter exchanged an anguished glance. Mr Maclay somehow missed it but Faith did not and it told her for sure what the answer was.

"I have been really clear and specific about this." He went on as his wife remained silent. "No more spells, no more magic. She's too old now. It's way too dangerous. So, I'll repeat my question: did you allow her to practise magic recently?"

As she still did not reply, he almost yelled the question once more:

"Did you?"

Mrs Maclay was now looking at her feet and trying to master her trembling body. The man released the girl and approached her, almost menacingly:

"Did you?" he said again in a calmer, icier, scarier voice.

As he was now inches of her, she shook her head.

"Good." He concluded. "I'd rather have to punish her than you."

"But…" the woman tried weakly.

"But what?" Mr Maclay interrupted. "What are you trying to do here? Are you with me or against me?"

It was not exactly a question and his wife knew better than answering.

"You know what the stakes are here. I'm not doing all this out of pleasure. But she's our daughter and we have to deal with her problem, even if we don't like it. You don't want her to turn into a demon sooner than expected, do you?"

Mrs Maclay still did not reply but just slightly shook her head.

"You know I have to punish her to keep control over the demon, don't you?"

Again no words, but just a slight nod of her head.

"Don't you know it?" insisted the man. "I want to hear it. Don't you know it?"

"I know" she whispered, staring at her feet.

"We have to keep her under control to protect her from becoming a demon this soon, you know that. She needs to be severely punished for disobeying. She deserves to have her demon part severely punished if we want it to back off."

The woman nodded again.

"You know I am right. Don't you?" he insisted in a pressing tone.

"Yes, you are." She gave in. "She should never practise magic. She really deserves to be punished."

"Good. I knew you were with me on this."

With that, he turned to Tara and grabbed her again carelessly and dragged her behind him out of the room, not noticing the blonde's frantic looks at her mother who did not dare looking up and refused to meet her eyes. The door banged loudly and Tara's father dragged her along the corridor and the stairs up to a door on the ground floor.

"Father, please..." Tara begged when she saw where her father was leading her.

He did not answer and took a key out of his pocket and opened the locked door. Behind it, were narrow stairs leading to the basement.

"Please...." Tara tried again, sobs starting to choke in her throat.

But he did not mind more than previously and pushed her in the stairs. The blonde went down the steps while her father locked the door behind them. The basement was a rather large and completely empty room, save for a lonely bench. The only light came from the single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Tara stepped back up to the back wall and waited, terrified, sobbing helplessly.

"Please..."

Her distress did not appear to soften her father at all. He crossed the room and stopped just two feet away from her.

"Take off your dress," he ordered icily.

Tara's sobs intensified and she did not move, seemingly nailed to her spot. Faith's heart jumped at the words and she looked frantically between the two of them.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed.

"Take off your dress," Mr Maclay repeated, moving his own hands to his belt. "Now."

Tara did not seem to be able to stop crying and Faith could not help thinking it was the first time she was seeing the blonde sobbing so openly and so noisily. The girl started to fuss at her dress with trembling hands, knowing she had no other choice than obeying her father.

"No, no, no," Faith cried, coming to her side. "You don't have to. I'll beat the crap out of him before he can lay a finger on you"

Tara did not stop her action and she took her dress away.

"You know you can't" she choked between two sobs.

She was now in underwear, with her arms wrapped around her, trying to hide her generous breasts.

"Face the wall now" Mr Maclay ordered.

Tara complied, still weeping convulsively.

"He won't touch you, I promise," Faith hastily said, clenching her fists.

"Don't promise something you can't do" protested Tara. "You can't prevent this."

"I'm the Slayer. Why couldn't I?"

"Bend over now," came the next order and Tara just did what she was told.

"Because it already happened." she said, turning her blurry blue eyes to the brunette.

Faith remained stupid for a second or two, just staring at the blonde's face, dripping with tears. She turned round and saw Mr Maclay just behind Tara, his long leather belt, folded in two in his right hand.

"I'm going at least to fifty," he announced. "But I doubt it will be enough to tame that growing demon in you. Be prepared to count for more than that. And I want to hear you count out loud. Each blow you do not count will be repeated until you count loud enough. When I'm done with you, you'll be locked here as long as needed for you to understand how important it is to obey my command. Understood?"

He did not wait for her answer and his arm rose above his head and started his descent toward Tara's naked back. A glimmer of pure hatred shone in Faith's eyes and she tried to seize the belt as it went down. But it passed right through her hand and she could only hear the dull sound of the leather on the naked skin and the choked cry of pain.

"Count!" Mr Maclay ordered.

"One!" Tara yelled.

Faith pounced on him without a second thought, ready to beat him to death if she had to. But again, she passed right through him and heard the blonde's anguished exclamation.

"Two!"

She turned round and tried to grab his collar to get him away but did not meet more success.

"Three!"

She put her hands around his neck and squeezed but no effect.

"Four!"

She rained down blows and blows on him. Still nothing.

"Five!"

She pushed him, pulled him, hit him with all her might. But it was useless.

"Six!"

She tried again.

"Seven!"

And again.

"Louder!"

"Seven!"

And again.

"Eight!"

And again.

"Nine!"

And again.

"Ten!"

And again…

"Louder!"

"Ten…"

***

Faith blinked once or twice and then opened her eyes wide. She put her hands onto her ears, the desperate sobs of kid Tara still ringing in her head.

"Faith, are you okay?"

She looked up to see the Tara she knew standing over her, her face full of concern, wide-eyed, terrified, and Faith understood that the blonde knew what had just happened.

"Goddess…" she breathed.

Faith looked around: she was back in the hostel room in Trillium. She felt dizzy and her head hurt more than ever. She felt the need to sit and fell to her knees when she failed to find something to sit on at immediate reach. Tara kneeled beside her and held her hand tentatively toward her face but did not dare to actually touch her.

"How is this possible?" Tara whispered. "Why do you have those… visions?"

Faith could not reply: she did not have an answer. But she did not care about the why. Every time she closed her eyes, half-naked young Tara appeared in front of her, looking at her with a terrified expression and Faith couldn't shake away the cries of anguish and the sound of the leather belt.

"I don't care what it is and why it happens!" she suddenly yelled angrily. "Whatever it is, make it stop!"

"Okay, okay," Tara replied hastily, thinking hard about what to do. "I'm going to Mrs Applefresh's. You stay here and try to rest. I'll be quick."

Faith wanted to protest but when she stood, her head span and she would have fallen to the floor if it was not for Tara supporting her.

"Lay in the bed," the blonde ordered. "I'll be back in no time."

Faith did not protest this time and let the witch guide her to the bed. She lay down there and tried to keep her eyes opened and her mind focused on the room.

"I'll be back in no time, okay?" Tara repeated.

Faith slightly nodded, and Tara left. She hurtled down the stairs as quickly as possible and nearly ran along the streets until she reached the esoteric bookshop. She bolt into the shop and felt relieved when she spotted Mrs Applefresh standing behind her counter, giving a customer change. She said her goodbye and gestured for Tara to approach.

"Is something wrong my dear?" she asked with concern. "You look terrible"

"It's about Faith," Tara explained quickly. "She's having visions. Visions of me. Visions I can feel."

The blonde found her explanation stupid and unclear but she could not add anything else for the time being. She really needed to catch her breath.

But the bookshop owner did not look surprised or confused. She even appeared to understand what Tara was talking about.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Come with me."

Tara followed her behind the counter like she had already done when searching a cure for Faith after Kira's spell. In the storeroom where the woman kept her private collection, the bookseller retrieved again the volumes of "Healing magical wounds" and quickly flipped through the pages up until the annex.

"There's an annex about common and uncommon side-effects of healing spells," she explained out loud for Tara. "I had a look after you left to perform the spell last time."

She finally found what she was searching and pushed the book aside for Tara to read.

"It's explained there," commented the woman. "She's experiencing a rebound of the spell you cast."

"A rebound?" Tara repeated. "Oh, Goddess…"

"It happens with mind spells when the caster fails to close her mind properly. Her own memories and feelings are imbued into the spell which results mostly with a rebound of the spell in the mind of the person receiving the curing spell in the first place."

"It's more than that," said Tara, while reading what the woman was explaining to her. "She's suffering. It's not supposed to hurt. I didn't hurt like that when I performed the spell."

"It's not really surprising my dear," replied the woman kindly. "You performed the spell, you know magic, and you were prepared for something to happen. It's not her case."

"Yeah, right, it makes sense," the blonde admitted. "So, what can I do to make it stop?"

"Not much I'm afraid," the woman replied while turning over the page of the book. "It'll pass within 24 hours."

"Yes," approved Tara, reading what the woman was showing her. "It's written here: 'the most obvious and incapacitating symptoms of this side-effect often disappear within 24 hours at most after their first appearance. If they do not, possible other spell or cause must be researched. The reader will note though that some symptoms may persist after the initial 24 hours for unpredictable time but they should not be incapacitating: shared dreams, shared memories, minor visions.'"

Tara turned another page over for more information but found none.

"Nothing else?" she asked, a little disappointed.

The woman shook her head and offered a reassuring smile.

"You shouldn't be worried. She should rest while it lasts. Tomorrow, it will be over."

"But it's written that some symptoms might last longer than 24 hours. I don't want to share more dreams or memories with her. I can't stand more."

"Don't worry like this, dear. It might last longer, but it might not. Make her rest as much as possible and most probably, everything will be over by tomorrow morning."

"Yes, you're right, I'm sorry. It's really kind of you to help me. I'm going to get back to the hostel and take care of her until she's fine."

"Don't be sorry my dear, I'm gladly helping you. But you can't do much this time."

Tara nodded and reluctantly closed the book.

"Thank you very much," she said, getting away. "I'm going now. Have a good evening."

"Come over tomorrow to keep me informed please"

"I will," Tara replied as she reached the door. "See you tomorrow."

The door of the bookshop closed behind her and Tara went away toward the hostel, slightly defeated at the news.


	4. Act 3

The room was austere and cramped, thought Faith. Only a dresser, a rather large – at least compared to the room's proportions- bed and a tiny night table furnished the place. The walls were covered with faded flowery wallpaper and were not decorated at all, save for a cross hanging on the wall facing the bed. The severe impression was only enforced by the solid bars at the window and the two bolts on the door – both locked from the outside. The sight made Faith feel uncomfortable. The only warm and welcoming thing here was a tiny candle, burning on the night table. Right beside it, leaning against the wall by the window, she spotted Tara's figure, darkened in the last light of dusk. She got closer and noticed that the blonde had been crying for a long time as told her dirty cheeks, but in the quiet way Faith was now used to witness. She was younger, probably in her late teenage days. Faith looked her up and down and found her to be in quite good shape.

"Is that your bedroom?" she asked quietly, appalled that this place had seen Tara grow up.

The blonde simply nodded without turning to her.

"Well, my bedroom looked fun finally," the Slayer commented.

Tara did not react at the humorous attempt. Faith noticed then that she was squeezing something in her right hand. She tried to see what it was, but the shape was imprecise and mostly hidden in Tara's palm. Seeing how Tara was fiercely holding it, it was probably something precious to her. But Faith did not have time to investigate further. The sound of a key in the lock gave Tara such a start that she missed slipping on the wooden floor. Surprised by Tara's abrupt reaction, Faith jumped in surprise too. The blonde looked around, startled, and hurried to her bed. She blew the candle out and slipped underneath the blankets as quickly as possible, pulling clumsily the covers up to her chin. Keys turned into the keyholes for several seconds before the door finally open, revealing Tara's father figure in the doorway. Faith's discomfort only grew wider at the sickening feeling of panic she felt rising in Tara. The blonde's father marched up to the bed, leaving the door opened behind him. He wore a grey strict suit and a dark tie. He was pale and his hair was unusually tousled. He looked terribly tired.

"Tara," he said in a blank voice. "Get up"

Tara, who had not moved when he had entered, fearfully sat up and turned to him. She was badly shaking in anticipation of something she obviously knew was coming. Again, tears were threatening to fall at the corners of her eyes.

"Get dressed," ordered her father in the same tone. "Hurry."

Tara pushed the blankets aside and put her feet to the floor. Faith noticed she was still holding the thing she had in her hand before hurrying to bed.

"Wh-wh-what ha-hap-happened?" she asked in such a trembling voice that Faith was not sure she would make it.

"It's your mother." Mr Maclay answered quite abruptly. "The hospital just called. It's over."

For a moment, it was like everything had frozen in the room. Tara and her father were looking at each other, perfectly still. So still that Faith could not tell they were breathing. The moment was broken by the sound of something hitting the floor. Faith looked down and saw that Tara had let slip what she was holding out of her hands. It was a crystal, probably related to witchcraft from what Faith could tell. It did not break when it hit the floor, and slid under the bed. Neither Tara nor her father seemed to notice or mind.

"B-but th-this af-after-afternoon…" Tara begged helplessly, choking with restrained sobs. "Sh-she w-was okay."

She looked desperately at her father, somehow hoping he would deny his own words. But the sentence broke all over again.

"It's over."

Tara's eyes filled with tears at the words, but she did not even notice. She remained there, staring at her father without seeing him, until he turned around to leave.

"Get dressed. I'm fetching your brother and we're leaving."

He got out, the door being left opened, revealing a dim corridor. Tara did not move at first. Her gaze transfixed upon the opened door, she waited for a miracle to happen. She waited for her father to come back and tell her it was not true, that her mother was okay, that the hospital had made a mistake. She waited to awake in her bed, to realize it was just a nightmare. She waited for her mother to appear in the doorway with her sweet smile, asking her what was wrong.

When she realized that neither of these situations would occur, she wrapped her arms around her, turned her back to the door and went slowly to the dresser, silently breaking down.

*******

Though Faith had not attended high school for too long, she recognized the place with one glance. Lockers on the walls, tags on the lockers, teenagers hastening along the hallways. The crowd of students was the same here -wherever she was – as it was back in the day in Boston. Popular kids were walking in gaudy and noisy groups in the middle of the hallway, taking great care to be seen and heard while unpopular kids were doing exactly the opposite, hugging the walls as they wanted to disappear. Standing right in the center of the hallway with students going past her without seeing her, Faith did not have to look for Tara to find her. She spotted the blonde at the second she browsed the place. The witch looked exactly as the Slayer expected her. Head bent, her long blonde hair hiding her face, she walked carefully along the wall with her hands joined in front of her, not daring to look at anyone but casting regular discreet glances around, as if she expected to be attacked any minute. With her clothes way too large for her, her old boots and big backpack, she definitely wasn't the friends of the cheerleaders. Faith followed close behind her as she got away from the crowd and soon, Tara found herself alone. Well, nearly alone.

"Hey, Tara"

The blonde jumped fearfully at the voice and Faith was sure her heart skipped a beat. A few feet from the witch, a brown-haired girl was leaning against a wall and offering a friendly smile. The newcomer was slightly taller than Tara, athletic and tanned. Her beautiful features were subtly enhanced with light make-up. She was just moderately fashioned She certainly did not look as she could be one of Tara's friend. And if she was, Faith thought they would be the most ill-matched couple of friends ever.

"Hey Hope," Tara greeted her.

"I was waiting for you" resumed the girl as Tara approached; looking at her like it was a miracle that girl could talk to her.

"And wh-wh-wh... why?" The blonde uttered with difficulty and turned pink with embarrassment.

"Hey, calm down" tried to reassure the other girl upon hearing Tara stuttering so badly. "Everything's cool. May I have a word with you?"

"Of-of course" Tara breathed.

She remained still a foot or so away from the girl and waited for her to talk.

"Privately?" offered the girl with a charming smile.

Tara turned crimson and remained perfectly still, gazing at Hope silently, obviously at a loss for what to do or to answer.

"You okay?" asked the other.

Tara eventually nodded and Hope grabbed gently her hand to drag her behind her in a room at her left. Tara shivered slightly at the contact and Faith could not help smirking.

"First love Blondie?" she asked.

She followed the teenagers in the new room. They were in the locker room and Hope closed carefully the door behind them.

"So okay," Hope started, facing Tara and looking at her in the eye. "I'm going to try to be clear but what I have to say is not that easy. Okay?"

Tara looked vaguely worried at this but she nevertheless nodded.

"So, I think I can reasonably say that I've noticed that you noticed me." she quickly said and appeared a little embarrassed herself, though Faith was sure she probably had rehearsed her text a million times before. Only to find it even lamer now it was said than it appeared to be during her rehearsal. "You know, with the glances and the looking away when I look at you and... Well, mostly that's it. But I think it tells a lot. It surely tells a lot when I look at you."

Tara opened her mouth but made no sound, which encouraged the girl to go on.

"So, I'd like to ask one thing: if I'm completely wrong with that, and if you're absolutely not interested in me the way I think you are and the way I'm interested in you, then please, go away and let's forget about the last three minutes."

She fell silent and waited, looking expectantly at Tara. The blonde was still looking at her, jaw-agape, but she did not make a move. Encouraged by the blonde's lack of running away, Hope tilted her head and gave another of her charming smile.

"So, I take that as a 'yes you're interested in me'?"

She stepped forward to get closer to Tara until they almost touched and ended putting her hand on Tara's hip. Faith thought she nearly could hear Tara's heart pounding in her chest.

"Are you?"

Tara nodded slightly and leaned against the locker behind her, as she might faint at the sudden closeness. Hope pressed her hand against the locker, just above Tara's left shoulder and stepped event closer, so closer that their noses were almost touching. Tara's heart was about to jump outside of her chest.

"Are you?" Hope breathed once more.

"Y-yes, of cou-course I am," Tara finally managed to answer in a low voice.

She held a trembling hand toward Hope's hip as well while her soon-to-be lover bent her head even more to kiss her. Their lips brushed slightly, tenderly, and Tara finally found the nerve to rest her hand onto Hope's hip. At that precise moment, the door banged opened. The girls jumped violently apart and jerked their heads to the door, hearts pounding widly. Four boys had barged in the room. At the head of the group, stood Donnie Maclay. He looked furious and when she recognized him, Tara's expression turned from fear to utter terror. Hope for her part, looked slightly worried at the looks on the boys' faces.

"Go away Hope" Donnie spat, staring right at his sister without blinking.

"What are you doing?" she asked, glancing from the brother to the sister hesitantly.

"I said, go away Hope" he repeated harshly. "If I need to repeat myself a third time, we possibly could tell everyone the name of the girl who let my sister kiss her. Understood?"

She looked again between Tara and Donnie and nodded. She headed for the door but once at the doorway, she turned back to him:

"What are you going to do?"

"It's none of your business" Donnie replied angrily. "Now go a..."

But he did not need to finish. Hope had opened the door and left. One of Donnie's friends closed the door behind her and Tara found herself alone with the four boys. She was still leaning against the locker, but the moment before was long forgotten. With her back pressed as tight as possible against the locker, Tara looked like she wanted to penetrate in there to hide from the boys' inquiring eyes.

"So, Tara, what were you doing just when we came in?" Donnie asked coldly, looking directly at her, apparently not giving a damn about Tara's obvious fear.

"I...I...I" the witch stuttered horribly, looking frantically around for an escape. "No-nothing. We-we were tal-talking"

"Talking, uh?" he repeated.

He came in front of her, followed close by his friends.

"Talking?" he said again. "With your lips on hers?"

"What do you think guys?" he asked, turning to the other boys. "Is that possible to talk like that? Do you talk to Sarah when she's got her tongue in your mouth, Charlie?" he added for a boy in particular.

They all laughed and shook their head.

"You're a liar, Tara" resumed Donnie, turning to her again. "You were kissing her. You were acting like a dyke."

"It-it was no-thing Do-Donnie" Tara whispered, trying to control her panic. "I didn't do an-anything b-bad"

"Oh, it was nothing..." he repeated in a sickly sweet voice. "Just a little kiss... But before what? Lips first, then tongues, then what? You play with her pussy? She plays with yours? Five minutes later, I'd find you with your tongue stuck in her pussy! You're disgusting me!"

Tara wanted to protest but as she opened her mouth, Donnie slapped her face so resoundingly that her head banged against the locker behind her.

"I wonder what Dad will think about that" he went on in the same tone.

The mention of her father was like another slap in the face for Tara.

"No, please!" she shrieked, her eyes filling with tears. "Don't tell Dad! Please!"

Donnie smiled, obviously very pleased with the result he had just reached.

"Oh, that's becoming interesting," he commented. "What would you do for me not to tell him you're a fucking dyke?"

Tara opened her mouth but he interrupted her:

"Anything?"

Tara fell silent and looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face. She shivered at the tone he just used. What was worse between her father learning about her kissing her girl and owing Donnie a favor? Really, she did not know.

"Anything Tara?" he asked again. "Think about it, sister. Think about what Dad will do when he knows."

Tara closed her eyes briefly, trying not to think about what could happen. Life had not been very funny these last years for her, but it now could really turn to hell if he heard about this.

"Please Donnie," she repeated in a begging tone.

As he only smirked, she finally breathed:

"Anything"

"Really?" he said, stepping even closer, until he was entirely pressed against her, his nose against hers, his eyes staring directly into hers.

"Anything" she whispered again, so low he hardly heard.

"Hear that, guys?" he snickered, stepping back away from her to turn to his friends. "She's so ashamed of what she did that she said: anything. A-NY-THING"

He came back to her, pressing her body again and bent to her ear:

"Thanks for the offer, you little slut, but no thanks" he whispered, but loud enough for his friends to hear. "I'd rather tell Dad. I want to see what he comes up with to punish you of something this grave. And know what? Afterwards, I will be able to do anything I want with you, because after something like that, Dad will never believe a word of what you'll say. Never again, he'll side with you for anything. You'll be alone with no one to call to your rescue"

The last part had been strangely delivered in a half-threatening half-sweet tone and Tara could not help dissolving into tears at such evident threats. She knew her brother was right: hell's gates were opening right in front of her.

As reading her mind, he suddenly put his hand to her head, grabbing and squeezing the bottom of her face between his strong fingers.

"I think we'll start with the punishing right now" he uttered dangerously. "I'll show you what it costs to act like a dyke."

He squeezed her chin a little more, then gestured to his friends to come closer. Surrounded this closely by the four boys, all looking at her menacingly, Tara felt as she was about to throw up or to faint.

"What's going on here?" suddenly exclaimed a new voice, when as the same time the door banged opened once more.

Every boy stepped back immediately away from Tara and turned to the door. The figure of Professor Milly, one of the gym teachers, was standing in the doorway. He browsed the room suspiciously and finally spotted Tara behind the four boys, her back still pressed against the locker. He did not appear to notice her frantic expression.

"What are you doing in the boys' locker room Maclay?" he asked, eyeing her from head to toes.

Tara turned to the opened door and read the sign telling Professor Milly was telling the truth. In her haste to follow Hope before, she had not paid attention where the girl was dragging her.

"That's the point, Professor," said Donnie when Tara kept silent, unable to pronounce a word. "Tara kind of behaves like a boy these days. We were trying to explain her how a girl is supposed to behave."

Professor Milly glanced between the two of them several times before grimacing slightly.

"Go away from here Maclay" he finally said.

Donnie took a step forward but he was cut short:

"Not you," said Professor Milly. "Your sister."

Tara suddenly remembered her legs could walk and she hastily left the room without a glance for any of the other protagonists. As she got away, she heard Professor Milly reprimanding Donnie:

"If anything like that happens again, I'm calling your father Donnie, understood? I don't want anything like that in my gym. God, what were you thinking? Your own sister!"

Tara quickened her pace along the hallway. She needed some fresh air. For a second, she thought about Hope. The beautiful Hope had nearly kissed her. Nearly. But it did not matter that Hope would never kiss her again. Tonight, Donnie would tell her father with no doubt. Tomorrow, he might tell the whole school she liked girls. She had escaped the punishment he had promised her for the time being; but it would not last, she knew this with utter certainty. The worst was still to come.

***

The large living-room was shadowy, half-lit by the fire dancing in the fireplace and by the last rays of the sun disappearing in the darkening, cloudy sky. Out every window of the room, snowy fields could be seen stretching in the distance in the sunset.

By the fireplace, right under a window, a man was sitting in a rocking chair, reading a book, his spectacles slightly down on his straight nose. Two girls in their late teenage days were fussing around him. Both were very blonde. The thinnest of the two had her hair wrapped into a strict bun. She was sitting on a bench beside the man and was knitting a sweater. The other one was voluptuous and taller, but looked strangely out of place with her slouched shoulders, her long hair falling in front of her face, and her furtive and regular glances around her, as if she feared someone or something might attack her any minute. She was ironing clothes, the table and the full linen basket placed a few feet away of the other two. Despite the apparent awkwardness of her gestures, she was ironing and folding each cloth very carefully as it was a very precious item owned by some person of very noble birth.

No one talked for a long time, Mr Maclay and cousin Beth looking oblivious to the other, and deeply engrossed in what they were doing. Tara was neither. Even though she was taking great care to the clothes she was ironing, her mind was elsewhere. Her constant and discreet glances to her father seemed to indicate that the blonde waited for the right moment to interrupt his reading. He wasn't a man to be disturbed if he did not wish to, and Tara knew this all too well, having learned her lesson the hard way during all her childhood. But she also knew her father well enough to recognize the signs telling her he was nearly done with his reading for the moment. Tara inhaled deeply but quietly, as if to give her some courage, and she glanced at her cousin to see if the girl was showing any sign of moving or leaving. Tara would have rather talked to her father alone, but she wasn't sure she would have the chance to catch him this peaceful without Donnie around for quite some time. Then she decided to do with Beth – they had never been really close, but Tara had always found her okay – and she played her monologue in her head one last time before addressing her father hesitantly:

"S..Sir," she started and her voice faltered miserably as expected.

He looked up almost immediately, showing Tara that he wasn't really engrossed in the book any more as she had rightly supposed. As his dark and severe eyes fell upon her, Tara felt like giving up for the tiniest second. She forced herself to think about her mother and about Donnie to strengthen her resolve.

"Sir, I'd li-like to t-tell you so-something," she managed to get out in the calmer voice she could.

He frowned slightly and Tara could feel her heart pounding in her chest like thunder.

"What is it Tara?" He asked, his voice slightly impatient, as if he expected her to have a hard time saying whatever she wanted to say.

"M-miss El-Elmond says I could go to co-col-college."

His frown grew stronger.

"And?" he asked coldly.

"I...I'd like to g-go."

He put his book away and Tara slightly jumped at the sharp sound. She returned to her ironing task, not daring to look at her father. She knew he was not happy with her right now. Of course, she had foreseen this, but she had wanted to give it a try. Since the moment Miss Elmond had called her after a lesson to ask her if she planned to go to university, Tara had not spent an hour without thinking about how she would tell her father.

"Listen to me, girl," Mr Maclay said severely. "You will go where I tell you to go."

Tara opened her mouth, even if she was not sure to say something. Anyway, she did not have the chance to talk as her father interrupted:

"What are you thinking? Haven't you listened to any word I've said for the last eighteen years Tara? Do you really think I can let you wander alone among hundreds of innocent students? Is that how I've brought you up? To be so selfish?"

He paused and eyed her from head to toes with disgust.

"But then again, what can I expect? I guess that's the demon part talking."

"Y-you s-said i-it w-wou-wouldn't sh-show up be-before I'm tur-turning tw-twenty," Tara stuttered horribly, only half-looking at her father. As he did not react immediately at this, she went on: "So I th-thought I cou-could go until then."

She looked down as soon as she had finished her sentence and resumed ironing, with now trembling hands. Mr Maclay stared at her pointedly for several minutes. Even if Tara was not looking at him at all, she could feel his intense scrutiny upon her. She felt like her father was trying to find out what she really had in mind, to unveil any possible lie or hidden plan.

"You want to go to college until you turn twenty, is that what you're telling me, Tara?" he finally asked.

"Yes, it is," she answered in a trembling but nevertheless stutter-free voice, briefly looking up.

"Look at me," he ordered as she looked down again.

She complied to her father's order very hesitantly and could not resist the need to wrap her arms around her as if to protect herself from his inquiring stare. As if only by looking at her, he could read her mind, she tried not to think about her plan to go to university to never return again as his eyes met hers.

"You want to go to college for two years, do you?" he asked again.

She slowly nodded her head and he stared at her again in silence for a few seconds. To Tara's surprise, her father then turned to Beth who had stopped knitting and was looking quietly at the scene.

"What do you think about that, Beth?" He asked. "Should I let her go to college?"

The girl looked startled for a brief moment. She had not expected to be asked any advice on that matter.

"I am certain you will take the right decision sir," she answered carefully. "You know what is best for the family."

"Certainly I know. But it is not what I am asking from you, Beth. What is your advice?"

She wavered again and glanced quickly between Tara and her father. As Mr Maclay looked at her with insistence, she finally reluctantly replied:

"Well, I guess that two years are not so much…"

Tara looked up more abruptly than she had intended: Beth backing her up was a surprise.

"I mean, I can take care of the house and of Donnie and you while she's away," cousin Beth went on in a sweet voice, and Tara refrained herself from frowning with disgust. "And maybe…"

She hesitated and glanced at Tara almost shyly before resuming before Mr Maclay pressed her to finish:

"Maybe being away for a time will do her some good. I mean, being away from this magic things her mother left her…"

Tara looked down again and clenched her teeth tightly at the contempt in Beth's voice at the mention of her mother and the magic. But she kept quiet. Any reason that could lead her father to let her leave for college was good to take; even she hated said-reasons. Anyway, her father's voice interrupted her train of thoughts.

"This is exactly what I was thinking about." He nodded at Beth who broadly smiled in response.

He turned then to Tara and was about to say something when Cousin Beth added with disdain:

"Plus, it's not like Tara has any chance of finding someone who wants her. She'll come back running after a few months being all alone there."

She smirked, obviously proud of herself, and took back her knitting tools without paying any attention to Tara anymore. The blonde witch knew she should not feel hurt by this remark, whose aim was nothing else but upsetting her, but she could not help it. Suddenly she realized how fool she was: what would she do all alone in a town so far from home, with no one to care about her? Her family might have its very special way to care about her, but they did care. Except for her family ties, alone she always had been up until this point; alone she would be in college: there was no denying this. She was about to announce her father she gave up on this idea but he spoke up before her:

"We'll see that when the time comes," he said severely. "As you'd be turning twenty during the second year, we could consider you leaving for one year. Being away from the magical influence you're experiencing here may even be preferable before you finally turn into a demon. The moment approaches, and we must be prepared."

Tara was so surprised to hear her father saying he was ready to let her leave home that she forgot instantly her brief moment of weakness from the minute before and did not even register everything else he had mentioned about her demon part. For the first time in the afternoon, she truly looked at him, jaw agape. Which he noticed immediately:

"Don't stay still like this, girl," he reprimanded her. "You still have ironing to complete and it shall be soon time to cook the dinner."

He got up from his chair and walked to the back-door leading to the backyard.

"Hurry up, Tara. You don't want me to have to wait."

She frantically nodded her head and resumed ironing. Her heart banging like thunder in her chest, her ears buzzing with excitation, she did not even hear neither the door closing behind her father nor Beth mumbling things about her.

***

Darkness. Utter darkness all around.

Faith squinted at her surroundings and waited to get acquainted with obscurity to be able to perceive where she was. It did not happen in spite of her wait and efforts: the darkness remained as thick and total as it had been since moment one. The Slayer could not see the slightest thing; she could as well be blind. Faith could only rely on her other senses.

Pricking up her ears, she listened carefully and soon made out a faint yet insistent scratching noise.

Screech, screech, she heard. She tried to determine where the sound came from, but after minutes listening in, she had to admit she could not tell. It was as if the scratching was caused by some mysterious things at any point of the room.

Faith could only suppose she was in a room of some sort because if she looked up, all she could make out was more blackness and nothing that looked like a sky. She thought that even a dark sky would be less dark than this, if it made any sense.

There was definitely something unnatural about this place.

The Slayer stretched her arms cautiously to check if she could touch a wall or something else around her. But her hands did not contact anything concrete. She squinted again at her surroundings but met no more success than previously at seeing something.

"Great," she muttered.

She took a step forward with her arms stretched in front of her to prevent her from bumping into anything. A sinister squeak rang out, as she crushed something under her shoe. She stopped dead in her tracks and immediately took another step in another direction but only to obtain the same result.

"Great," she repeated.

She tested the ground with the tip of her foot and grimaced in disgust as she felt something soft, viscid in some places and crumbly and squeaking in others. After several failed attempts to walk on concrete hard ground in different directions, Faith resigned herself to move forward carefully on whatever was under her feet. A dreadful squeak accompanied each step she took and the Slayer could not help feeling more and more uneasy. Again, she tried to see something and felt at a loss about what to do or to witness in such darkness. She still heard the distant scratching noise, ringing out like a disturbing litany. Suddenly, an idea hit her and she felt silly not having thought about it before. She rummaged in her pockets feverishly, searching for her lighter. But despite the fact that Faith was utterly certain to never part with it, it was nowhere to be found.

"Okay, now I'm in hell," she said out loud after searching her pockets for the fourth time.

The words died in her throat as she told them and the thought crossing her mind made her shiver from head to toe. What if this was…?

"If that's where she went after dying, I'm really not in a hurry to know what's in store for me…" Faith dejectedly commented.

An icy breeze then rose and the Slayer felt at once completely frozen to the point of chattering her teeth. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself but it did not help to shut the cold away. Somehow, it felt like she was freezing inside. As it was not enough already, a terrible screaming rang out and echoed during what felt hours to Faith. She stopped dead in her tracks again and felt inexpressible panic rising in her chest.

"Tara," she called tentatively. "Where are you? What's this pl…"

She interrupted herself as she suddenly felt something touching her right leg. Something was crawling up her leg. She tried to sweep it away from her tibia and noticed with horror that her trousers were gone, that all her clothes were gone, that she was utterly naked.

"What the hell is that?" she screamed in frustration in a trembling voice.

She felt other things crawling up both her legs, crawling in her back and on her shoulders. Probably different sorts of insects she thought as she brushed them off her body vigorously, but they seemed to come back as many and as soon as they were gone. She wanted to run, perhaps thinking that she would escape her little attackers this way. Her naked feet almost slipped on the irregular ground and somewhere in her mind, it occurred to her that what was cracking under her steps might be the insects crawling on her skin now. She grimaced in disgust and looked desperately around, searching for a way out. There was necessarily a way out.

"Tara!" she called and she hated the anguish in her voice. "Tara!"

And at once, here she was, appearing suddenly right in front of her, the only visible thing in the room. Faith stopped her blind run and stared at the blonde, breathing heavily, the sight in front of her enough to make her forget what she was running from.

Tara was crouching on the ground, completely naked too, her long blonde hair hanging dirtily on her shoulders. Her teeth were chattering and just as Faith had been minutes before, she was covered with insects of various shapes and sizes that made Faith wrinkle her nose in disgust. The blonde brushed them with one of her hand – her other arm being tightly wrapped around her chest – but they kept coming back, crawling along her thighs, her back and even her face. She was whispering something Faith could quite hear clearly.

"Tara," she said gently.

But the blonde obviously had not registered her presence, and did not acknowledge it in any way. Faith bent over to be able to hear what she was muttering to herself. Her blue eyes were dull, gazing blankly at something in the distance.

"Bad, bad, I'm bad."

"No, you're not," Faith tried, already knowing Tara would not even notice she had said something. "Tara, what's this place?"

The blonde did not answer and went on rocking without looking at the Slayer. A long high-pitched scream echoed then again in the room and both girls jumped. Tara looked frantically around her, a light of utter terror shining now in her eyes.

"No!" she screamed to no one in particular. "I'm bad!"

She yelled plaintively and started to cry softly, her body shaken with tremors and heart-breaking sobs.

"I'm bad, I'm bad," she carried on repeating, lowering her voice each time she pronounced it.

Faith bit her lower lip and felt the most urgent need she had ever felt in her life: the absolute need to be gone from there. She closed her eyes as she felt tears of despair appearing at the corners of her eyes. When she opened them, it took her a few seconds to realize that the scratching was finally gone and to get acquainted to light returned.


	5. Act 4

Faith was now in a room she did not know, but after a quick look around her, she thought she recognized the place, having heard a lot about it. She was in a shop. Shelves of books and of a lot variety of objects were aligned in front of her. To her right was a counter. Behind her, she could see out a wide windowpane that night had just fallen. A few feet ahead of her, Tara was walking toward a ladder leading upstairs.

They were alone in the magic box and everything was silent except for Tara's footsteps echoing softly in the room. Faith followed her and soon found herself perched on the first floor's balustrade, bending her head over Tara's shoulder. The blonde had grabbed a book on a shelf and was slowly flipping trough the pages, holding a little plant in her right hand as she did so. She looked very focused and worried at the same time, and Faith wondered what kind of monster or apocalypse she was researching. It looked pretty serious if the blonde's expression was any indication.

At last, the witch's flipping came to an end and she stopped at a page where the little plant she held was drawn at the bottom left near a paragraph reading "Lethe's Bramble: Used for augmenting spells of forgetting and mind control". Tara's face clearly crumpled. She did not cry but Faith experienced a pain so intense that she felt as if she had been hit in the stomach. She looked curiously between Tara and the book several times before finally asking:

"What's in the book?"

Tara did not turn to her to answer in a dark tone:

"Betrayal"

At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. Faith turned round and spotted Willow and Buffy coming in. Tara had turned as well and was looking blankly at the redhead. Faith looked between the two of them once or twice, and finally Tara repeated as she closed the book:

"Betrayal"

***

This time, Faith recognized at once the place where she was now standing. The Bronze. The Bronze in good old Sunnydale. Late and crowded on a Saturday night perhaps. She took some time to take in her surroundings, to remember the times when she had herself come here, and for an instant, it felt good to feel like coming home. The moment did not last though, as her eyes met Tara's. The blonde stood right in front of her, with Willow at her side. They were on the balcony above the dance floor, leaning over the railing, and both lovers were staring at the crowd beneath them, obviously looking for someone. Tara looked worried.

"I'll just shift everyone who isn't a fifteen-year-old girl into an alternate dimension." Was saying Willow, cracking what, to Faith, looked like a very proud smile.

"What?" protested Tara in a shocked tone, holding the redhead's wrist as if preventing her from doing something.

"No, it'll be for like a fraction of a second. They won't even notice." Replied Willow casually.

"Will, no, you can't!" insisted Tara, her voice still sounding horrified at the prospect.

"Why?"

"Well, what if something went wrong?" argued the blonde.

"Well, it won't!"

"But w-what would Giles say?"

That did not seem to be the good argument to use. Willow did not answer, and instead turned back to the crowd again and said "_Sukut_!"

To Faith's astonishment, every noise in the bar died away, leaving the place perfectly silent, although no one but Faith, Willow and Tara seemed to notice, people continuing to dance and the band on stage keeping playing as everything was normal. Apparently satisfied with herself, Willow turned back to Tara and asked in a harsher tone than Faith had expected:

"Are you taking his side now?"

"This isn't about sides." Answered Tara calmly, though Faith could tell she indeed felt very uneasy.

"You two have been talking about me behind my back." Willow went on.

"No! God." Exclaimed Tara, protesting vehemently.

"You know how that makes me feel?" resumed the redhead, as if Tara had not even spoken.

"Willow, you are using too much magic." Finally admitted Tara, trying to reason with her girlfriend. "What do you want me to do, just, just sit back and keep my mouth shut?"

"Well, that'd be a good start."

Tara looked terribly shocked, but Faith could not tell who the most shocked was between the two of them. She had known first hand that Willow could be harsh and cruel and was not only the nice and innocent girl she once appeared to be. But she had also believed that Willow kept her wicked side only for people she thought might deserve it. Like herself. Obviously, Faith had been wrong. And as Tara's hurt expression told her, the blonde had been wrong too about what Willow was capable of. Faith felt her fighting threatening tears back as she cried out:

"If I didn't love you so damn much I would!"

And the blonde turned around and stormed out, hoping somehow that Willow would run after her and beg for her forgiveness. But she did not.

***

Sewers. Dirty cold sewers.

Faith leaned against a wall without thinking but just as her back touched the concrete rock behind her, she abruptly stood straight back and cast the wall an annoyed glance. Only then she noticed the girls lying down at her feet. Tara had her back against the dirty ground while Willow was stretched out over her. They stared intently into each other's eyes and Tara reached out at Willow's face, brushing locks off her face. They both smiled shyly, and Willow bent down very slowly, as if willing to kiss Tara but giving her time to move back if she wanted to. Faith could not help but grin and whistle at the sight.

"God, Tara, I thought you were kind of romantic. There're better places for that sort of things!"

Someone groaned – not in pleasure – and Faith looked up. She noticed Xander getting up a few feet away from the lovers. The young man winced as if he had been hit or had suffered a shock of some sort and he walked forward. As he was taking the second or third step, something cracked under his foot and he looked down, surprised. Faith saw a brief green light appearing and disappearing under Xander's shoe. He stopped moving and appeared to feel a little dizzy for a brief moment. Faith's gaze then came back to Willow and Tara. Willow had stopped her gesture inches from Tara's lips and the look in Tara's eyes had nothing left of the fondness Faith had seen in them just a few seconds before. She moved to get free from Willow and the redhead moved along. They both sat up and looked at each other. Willow looked ashamed and looked down while Tara's expression was somewhere between angry and hurt. Faith did not quite understand why the mood had so suddenly and so dramatically changed. Tara then stood, just when Dawn, whom Faith had not noticed before, came to Xander's side. All three of them were staring at Willow with an expression of anger and disbelief.

"Looks like Red's in trouble." Faith commented.

She saw Willow looking down at her belt and touching something there. Her face crumpled a little as she did not find what she was searching.

"We should get back," said Xander.

He and Dawn did, walking past Willow and Tara and getting away in the sewer. Willow finally stood and looked sadly at Tara but the blonde looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. Without saying a word, Willow turned around and followed Xander and Dawn.

Tara remained alone, and only then, Faith noticed her unusual haircut. She probably would have joked about it if she had not felt so sad all of a sudden. So desperate. So empty. So cold.

The air had strangely become icy and thick. Oppressive.

Tara wrapped her arms around herself and Faith did as well, trying to keep as warm as she could. But any trace of warmth or joy or hope seemed to have vanished off the face of the Earth. Tara started to cry. Not noisy and loud sobs. Just quiet tears rolling slowly down her cheeks and Faith felt her heart wringing at the sight. The blonde then walked to follow the others and Faith felt colder than ever as she passed beside her.

"It's damn cold here," said the Slayer, turning her head to the blonde at her side.

Tara stopped for a brief second and gazed at Faith, eyes tear-filled.

"Not really a welcoming place to be or to come back," she answered.

"What just happened there?" asked Faith, even though she was not really keen on the idea to get Tara to explain, but nevertheless really willing to understand.

"Betrayal" replied Tara coldly. "Ultimate betrayal".

Faith was ready to ask for more details but Tara walked past her. The Slayer looked at her retreating into the sewer up to the ladder leading back into the magic box until she disappeared out of sight.

***

The motel room looked all too familiar to Faith. They all looked familiar she thought as she looked at the white walls, the tiny bed and the spare furniture. This one looked nevertheless quite cleaner than the ones the brunette was used to. But it felt depressing as well.

It was probably exactly that kind of ambiance Tara had been searching by coming here. Sure enough, the blonde was in there. Near the bed, three cardboard boxes were piled up, containing all the witch's belongings. She was sitting on the floor near an old armchair, her back against the wall facing the bed, her legs stretched in front of her, her hands resting on her sides. She was perfectly still and silent, not even sobbing despite the flood of tears pouring down her dirty cheeks.

Faith collapsed into the armchair beside Tara, stretched her legs and crossed her arms behind her head. She looked sideways at Tara from time to time, the blonde just crying softly for a long time before Faith asked:

"Still Willow drama?"

Tara did not answer nor move even a muscle. Faith waited, but minutes passed in silence and she grew impatient.

"Did not know you two were so much into drama," she said.

Still no reaction.

"Kinda thought you would be more like the perfect couple," added the Slayer.

She turned to Tara while saying this but the blonde did not register nor reacted any more than previously. Faith sighed.

"So what? I'm supposed to watch you cry and cry for hours? Days maybe? I get it, y'know, Willow and you weren't that..."

She was interrupted by a soft knock and jerked her head round toward the window. Her eyes widened in surprise and she sat up abruptly. Behind the opened pane stood the unmistakable blonde vampire Spike. She looked at him, jaw-agape for a few seconds before turning to Tara. The blonde appeared to have hardly noticed his arrival and she showed no sign of acknowledgement of his presence. He rolled his eyes and knocked once more.

"You shouldn't leave that window opened Blondie," he said in his typical British accent. "Something dangerous could get in."

Tara quickly wiped away her tears with her sleeves and to Faith's great surprise, she actually answered:

"Something like you?" she said, turning slightly to the window.

Spike grimaced and mimicked an offended look.

"I'm not dangerous anymore, remember?" he asked, gesturing to his head, referring to his chip. "And besides, I can't get in."

"As yourself noted, the window is opened. What on earth could prevent you to get in?" Tara told him, and Faith could not help but notice that she wasn't stuttering at all.

"I am a vampire," explained Spike in a bored tone. "I can't get in if I'm not invited to."

Tara looked around her before staring at him again with an annoyed look on her face.

"I thought vampires needed invitation to get in private places. Does this look anything like home?" spat the blonde bitterly.

Spike looked unsure of what to say for a moment, then he answered in a softer tone than before:

"You've been living here for a few days if I'm not mistaken. So that's your home for now, so I can't get in if you don't invite me."

"And why would I do that?"

Spike raised his right arm and produced a pack of beers.

"To have a drink," he said.

Tara looked puzzled and she shrugged.

"To have a beer with a vampire?" she repeated slowly. "That's your plan?"

Spike got annoyed at Tara's dumbfounded expression and lack of enthusiasm. He gazed pointedly around the room before saying:

"I did not think you had better plans. But I might be wrong. Maybe you're waiting for someone after all."

Tara's face crumpled a little and they stared at each other briefly before she gestured at the window. As Spike did not make a move, the blonde finally breathed:

"Come in,"

"At last," he muttered while pushing the window wide opened and straddling the windowsill.

Tara did not move to greet him but he did not seem to mind. He looked around and glanced at the armchair where Faith had collapsed, obviously considering it as a good option to settle in. The Slayer jumped out of it when she noticed, but finally Spike decided for the floor and flopped down beside Tara. He put down his pack of beers beside him, not on Tara's side and pulled two bottles out of the pack. He opened both and handed one to the witch. Tara turned slightly her head toward him and hesitated. He shot her an annoyed glance and shook the bottle lightly under her nose. She sighed and finally grabbed the handed beer. He smirked and held his bottle to clink it with Tara's.

"To love," he said.

As Tara did not answer, he turned to her, arched an eyebrow and asked, not before swallowing a long mouthful of beer:

"Not drinking to love Blondie?"

She did not reply and considered blankly the bottle in her hand.

"Why are you here?" she interrogated, ignoring his question.

"Told you already," he responded. "To have a drink. I thought you'd be in a mood to have a drink."

"I thought vampires only drank blood."

"Then you were wrong," answered Spike flatly. "We drink blood to feed. But we have nothing against a good pint of something else every once in a while. Plus, having a pint of blood with you? I thought you wouldn't be in."

"Yeah," Tara commented, absent-mindedly. "Probably."

He drank again, not paying much attention to her. He was nearly reaching the very bottom of his first drink when Tara asked again:

"Why are you here?"

"To have a…" he began but the blonde interrupted him, following her train of thoughts:

"Have one of them sent you?"

Seeing Spike's puzzled expression, she tentatively added:

"I mean, Buffy or Dawn or Wi-Willow?"

She had stuttered for the first time, Faith noticed, tripping over her ex-lover's name as the Slayer had heard her doing several times in the past few months.

"I'm sorry to have to disappoint you here," replied Spike. "But I'm here on my own. Did not talk to Buffy since your ex erased all our memories."

He looked away while saying this and Faith could see he was lying. But absorbed in her own thoughts, Tara did not notice anything.

"Oh," she simply whispered.

She remained silent for a while, then, as realization had sunk in, she turned slowly to him and said:

"That's it. That's why you're here."

"Uh?" asked Spike, interrupting his gulping of his second beer.

"Buffy. Because you haven't talk to her in days. You're drinking to your love for Buffy," she looked appalled now. "With me." She sat up.

"So what?" asked Spike with annoyance.

She stared at him silently for a few seconds, and then resumed her position back against the wall.

"You should get over it, Spike." She said in a more detached tone. "She's the Slayer, you're a vampire. Don't you see why she can't love you?"

Tara finished her sentence by finally taking a sip or two at her beer. Spike shrugged and drank as well.

"Lucky you, you didn't live long enough to see B getting all lovey-dovey about him." Faith couldn't refrain herself from commenting.

Tara glared at her.

"Just sayin'," the Slayer added.

Oblivious to the interruption, Spike responded to Tara's question:

"It's not like she never did it before," he pouted. "The loving a vampire thing." He clarified.

"It was different," stated Tara.

"Pff." Grumbled Spike. "And why is that?"

"He has a soul"

"And what about that?" the vampire asked. "Your honey has a soul, didn't help to prevent her from hurting you."

Tara had been ready to answer something before he finished but as the last part sank in, her mouth closed without a sound. The blonde looked so hurt and sad that for a second, Faith felt the burning urge to grab the vampire's head and slam it against the wall behind him with all her might.

"She's not my honey." Tara said harshly, looking away from him as tears threatened to fall again.

She drank frankly at her bottle this time and Spike looked surprised, maybe at her tone, maybe at her drinking, maybe at both.

"You'll find someone else." He tried in a comforting tone.

"Says the vampire stalking a Vampire Slayer," shot back Tara ironically.

"I'm not her stalker," protested Spike.

Tara rolled slightly her eyes in sign of protest but she did not answer anything. They drank again in silence for a moment, Spike finishing off his second then third beer while Tara only started on her second one.

"You never speak about her to anyone, don't you?" suddenly asked the witch without turning to the vampire.

He put his empty bottle away in the pack and grabbed the last remaining beer. Then he turned slowly his head toward Tara and wavered a little before answering:

"Well, not that much," he finally said. "Do you?"

"What?" shot back Tara, "Talking about Buffy?"

He rolled his eyes annoyingly at Tara's pretence of silliness.

"About Willow of course," he croaked.

She shrugged, and the simple evocation of her lover's name filled her eyes with tears again. She looked away and he did too, probably embarrassed. Tara did not notice, but Faith found that odd: Spike was a vampire after all; he should be trying to find a way to eat Tara, not chitchatting with her about how cruel love was. He probably had reached the same conclusion as he suddenly said:

"Good Lord, look at what I've become because of her! I was a feared vampire for dozens of years, I would have eaten you without batting an eye, and here I am, sounding like a girl, talking about love with you! Not exactly how I like to spend my nights."

Eyeing the witch out of the corner of her eye, Faith had the distinct impression that Tara could not care less about Spike's changing mood, so she almost jumped in surprise when Tara angrily snapped:

"What should I say?" the blonde had jerked her head toward him and looked truly at him for the first time since he had come in. "I had a home, a family, someone I loved and respected more than anything, someone I thought loved and respected me as well. I shared with her the most precious gift my mother had left me. And to what end? To be just as controlled and abused as I was all my fucking life until then! I thought I finally had my chance and it all goes to crap! Exactly like my father promised me every time he had the chance! Look at me: do you really think that sharing beers with a vampire in a crappy motel room is what I ever had in mind?"

For a brief moment, Spike looked surprised at the blonde's outburst. But he did not abandon his trademark British composure as he replied:

"Never knew you could get all angry and shouting" he simply said.

As she opened her mouth to add something else, he interrupted her:

"Don't get mad. I get it. We are two poor little things."

He held his beer to his mouth and gestured for her to do the same.

"Let's have a drink," he encouraged. "Beer makes it a better." He paused. "To this crappy evening."

She shrugged once more and glanced absent-mindedly at the bottle between her fingers before clinking it with Spike's.

"To this crappy evening." she concluded dejectedly.

***

Faith appeared in a bedroom bathed in the sweet light of a sunny spring afternoon. She was standing beside Tara, and the blonde looked far much happier than she did previously and probably happier than Faith had ever seen her. The reason to the bright smile on Tara's face was standing right in front of her in the person of Willow. They both looked delighted and after all the tears and suffering she had witnessed, Faith found this new ambiance soothing.

"No more Willow drama at last?" commented the Slayer.

Tara was fondly gazing at Willow while the redhead put away some clothes in a drawer of the dresser. It took Faith some time to recognize Joyce's former bedroom where she had once held Buffy's mother hostage. The memory was soon chased away by Willow's voice:

"Think they're making up?" she asked over her shoulder.

Faith wondered who she was talking about and a quick glance out the window told her the answer: Buffy and Xander were in the backyard.

"I hope so. That's the best part." Replied Tara with that crooked smile of hers.

Faith half-smiled despite herself. But then again, the moment did not last. She heard the window breaking as if it was a long-distant event and felt a searing pain striking her, as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest by a silver clawed hand. Her vision became instantly blurred and the sight of Willow in front of her grew unclear, yet she could only perceive a very red, almost shiny stain on her shirt. Faith's head jerked round toward Tara and she saw the blonde opening her mouth and say something but she was unable to catch the words. She did not have time to feel anything else more than a little surprise before everything turned to nothingness.

***

Tara was sitting on a narrow and empty bed in a little bare room. There was no window on the walls and the only light brightening the room came from the opened door. Except for the bed, there was nothing at all in the room, no other furniture, and no decoration of any kind.

Beside the blonde stood a tall man. His hair was graying and he had a little gray beard and mustache. He wore a maroon monk's robe whose sleeves' ends were decorated with golden borders. He was examining Tara like a doctor would do with a patient. The witch wore a white tunic showing her arms and half her legs. Her feet were bare. She was alarmingly pale and thinner than ever. There were all sorts of adjectives to describe Tara, and thin had never been one of them until that point. The man was manipulating her as she was a doll, raising her arms, turning her head, bending her knees, and she let him do so without showing any sign of reaction. Even when he opened her eyes wide between two of his fingers, she did not move at all.

"Okay," the man said after a long and careful examination. "That'll do it. This is perfect work. I think you're ready to leave."

She looked up at the sound of his voice and her blonde locks moved aside, revealing her emaciated face. She looked blankly at him but he did not appear to notice how empty her gaze was.

"I have a few clothes for you here," he announced, walking out of the room, and seizing a little bag put down near the doorway.

He came back to the bed and handed it to her. As she showed no sign of taking it, he ripped it opened and pulled a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans out.

"You'll find underwear and a pair of shoes in the bag as well," he explained. "It's not much but that will do until you find your friends."

An indescribable glimmer shone in her blue eyes at the mention of her friends, but the light was gone as soon as it appeared.

"Now get dressed, I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that, he strode off the room, leaving the door wide-opened and disappeared in the corridor. His steps echoed during a minute or two before Tara found herself alone in complete silence. She stared at the clothes Gideon had handed her and started to dress like a robot. Every gesture took her a much longer time than necessary, as if she had to think about every single thing she did before actually doing it. When she finally finished tying her shoes very carefully, she sat back on the bed with her hands folded in her lap and waited for Gideon to return. It was not long before the warlock reappeared in the doorway.

"Great," he happily exclaimed when he took sight of Tara fully dressed. "You're doing so really well Miss Maclay, you're making me proud!"

The blonde did not appear to register or to react to his beaming expression and did not move until he came to her side and seized her right arm.

"Come on my dear, it's time to go."

They left the room, Tara slightly at Gideon's side as he held her shoulder. They walked in several bare damp rocky walled corridors, climbed a long spiral staircase before following more corridors whose walls were now covered with crimson fabric.

They finally emerged outdoors, in what looked like an old abbey courtyard. The ground was made of old rocky slabs, broken in some places, mostly covered with moss. Above their heads, the sky was a clear blue behind layers of clouds.

Gideon pushed Tara up to the large wooden door of the court and it opened in front of them, though no one was there to activate the mechanism. Once at the doorway, they stopped. Leaving from the door, a small dusty path was winding its way up to the top of a hill in front of the monastery where it disappeared from sight.

"See that path?" Gideon asked.

He turned to Tara who was looking blankly in the distance and went on, whereas the blonde had not shown any sign of listening.

"You have to follow it, climb the hill and once you're far enough from the monastery, you'll be teleported to Cleveland where your friends are waiting for you."

He probably thought it was enough information but Tara did not move in the slightest and she turned to him as he started to back away. He noticed and turned back to the hill, before looking at her more carefully.

"Okay Miss Maclay, I know this is a hard time for you. But it'll get better I promise. You and I – and especially I – have made a wonderful job these last few weeks. Now you just have to follow that path and you'll arrive in Cleveland and find your friends, find Willow Rosenberg. Understand?"

Tara slightly trembled at Willow's name but beside that, she had no particular reaction.

"Go up the hill," repeated Gideon. "Your time here is done. My work is done. Time to do yours."

He gestured to the hill, gently patted her shoulder and turned away from her to go back inside. As soon as he was half his way to the door leading inside, the large wooden door closed and Tara found herself alone. Despite herself, she began to walk slowly on the dusty path and got way from the monastery. She did not glance back once, until she arrived at the top of the hill. Once there, she turned back and stared blankly at the building for a very long time, her face worn and indifferent, her gaze dull and empty. Then, she turned her back on the monastery and headed forward on the path until she vanished of the landscape as Gideon had foretold.

*******

The night had already fallen when Faith awoke to an empty room. She felt better, her mind was clearer and she knew, somehow, that her nightmares were over. She looked around to see if there was any sign of Tara. Finding none, she got up and went to take a look in the bathroom: it was deserted as well. The Slayer slipped her shoes and her sweater on and she left the room. She went down the stairs and after a quick glance in the common room, she wentout.

Tara was there, sitting on the highest of the three steps in front of the hostel. The blonde had wrapped herself tightly in her coat and appeared to be lost in thoughts despite her blue eyes staring at the starry sky.

"Don't ask me how, but I knew I would find you there" Faith said softly as she came to stand by her side. "Whatever was going on, it's over. I'm fine now."

"I'm glad" replied Tara absent-mindedly with a slight nod of her head.

For some time, neither of them found what to say or felt the need to say anything. They just stayed there, looking at the stars still appearing in the darkening sky. Finally, Faith was the one to break the silence with unexpected comments.

"My watcher's name was Sara Marple. She found me when I was living on the streets after I ran from the foster care in Boston. At first, I wasn't really thrilled about her or the whole Slayer thing. I thought she was making fun of meor that there must be something going on there she wasn't telling me. That she was trying to play me. But she wasn't. I think she actually liked me very much. For the first time in my life, I had someone who actually cared about me. When Kakistos killed her right in front of my eyes, I promised myself I'd never let anyone get so deep into my heart again. When this bastard ripped her guts, - her voice slightly trembled with both grief and rage- I felt like he ripped my heart of my chest as well. That woman had been my only family for my entire life and it had just lasted a few months. I... - she wavered, searched for her words – I've never really felt like talking about her."

She fell silent and glanced at Tara, whom she had not looked at all for her entire speech. The blonde was looking at her with an unreadable expression on her face. She did not ask why Faith was telling her all this: the Slayer could tell she knew. Tara looked silently at Faith for a moment, but before it became uncomfortable, she simply said:

"I'm glad you told me"

Faith felt stupid then, not knowing what to do next. She was torn between the usual urge to be alone and run away, and the uncommon need to stay. Finally, not really knowing what she was doing, she sat on the steps beside Tara. She took her cigarettes from her pocket and lit one. She dragged several long puffs before asking in the most casual tone she could:

"So, being gay has been that hard in high school?"

If Tara was surprised, she did not show it and replied in the most natural way:

"Being gay has never been hard. Being gay is not the problem. It's the way people feel about it that is one."

"Well, if you want" commented Faith. "It doesn't make a difference in the end."

"Of course it makes a difference." Tara protested. "It makes a huge difference. Gays are the not the problem. I'm not the problem. People who don't like me because I'm gay are the problem."

"Yeah," Faith admitted with a smile, quite surprised at Tara's passionate reaction. "That's for sure"

She kept quiet for a second, time for her to drag another puff and then asked:

"So, you never got to kiss that Hope chick again? Hot by the way" the Slayer added in a casual tone.

Tara looked at her, slightly surprised, then answered with a half-smile:

"I did actually."

"Really? She looked pretty freaked if you ask me"

"She came to see me at home the next summer, while Donnie was away, traveling the country before he graduates. She came to apologize and to tell me she was actually really interested in me. We spent the next three weeks literally always together before she left for college. She's been my first"

Faith smiled lightly too at the peaceful expression this memory had plastered on Tara's face. She kept silent, allowing Tara to retreat to this so rare and precious time. She finished off her cigarette and lit another one while Tara returned to her looking at the sky.

"I'm sorry"

Faith again was the one to disrupt the silence. Saying this, she did not turn to Tara, but instead looked right in front of her. Her tone was brisk but sincere.

"I mean," Faith went on. "I've been an ass since the whole crap thing with Kira. And well, I..."

She failed to find something accurate to say, but Tara did not mind and even came to her rescue.

"I understand, Faith. Really. I exactly know how you've felt. You've felt like I violated your mind and you perfectly had a right to think that way."

"I know you probably had to do what you did, but still, it's so weird y'know, you seeing all those things..." Faith resumed, relieved by Tara's intervention.

"I know," the blonde answered sincerely. "I really do. I mean, I think we're kind of even now, aren't we?"

"I guess so," Faith hesitantly said. "I know it shouldn't make me feel better about what happened, but somehow it does. Maybe it's just a plainly stupid reaction."

"It's not" Tara replied. "I get it. Really."

Faith did not answer but dragged another puff instead. Neither talked for a moment, but the silence was a comfortable one. But again, Faith was the one to speak up:

"You should have told me when we met Leo."

"What?" Tara asked, surprised.

"Why you knew he wasn't a demon."

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Tara shrugged and looked away.

"I'm not sure it would have changed anything at the time."

Faith did not answer and Tara did not elaborate on that matter. For a moment, the Slayer searched for her words, wavered about what she was about to say before finally breathing:

"May I ask you something?"

"Sure"

Faith wavered; the question was burning her lips, but she feared the answer Tara could give.

"What is it Faith?" the blonde encouraged in a sweet voice.

The witch's expression gave Faith the courage she needed:

"That place… That very dark place with insects…The screaming… You see?"

Tara's face crumpled a little at the evocation but she nodded slightly.

"Was it… was it where you went after you… after you…"

The words were failing her, but after a quick moment of confusion, Tara understood where the Slayer was getting.

"No," the blonde interrupted. "No, it wasn't. It was Glo-glory who did that to me."

"Oh," was the only answer Faith came up with. "Okay"

They stared at each other for a second, and finally Faith asked:

"How long did it last?"

"I don't know" replied Tara and she looked away at the painful memory. "It felt like forever to me"

Again the silence. Faith waited for Tara to regain her composure to ask the next question on her lips.

"Do you remember how it was after you…"

Then again, Tara understood the question before it was asked and interrupted Faith to answer:

"No, I don't" she said.

Seeing Faith's disappointed expression, she went on:

"It's fuzzy. I think I remembered quite well just after I came back… But it's disappearing… Like a dream you remember when you awake and that vanishes as the day goes off"

The Slayer nodded and she returned to her silent smoking. After another set of minutes spent in silence, Faith, who apparently had trouble to keep her thoughts to herself, interrupted Tara's reverie once more.

"There's something I have to tell you" she breathed without looking at her, so low that the blonde hardly heard her.

Tara turned to her curiously, intrigued by the Slayer's solemnity.

"What is it?"

Faith glanced at her and their eyes met briefly before the brunette looked away again.

"I'm making you a promise I can keep now: if I ever cross the path of any member of your family, I swear I'll make them pay for everything they did to you. Oh, I won't kill them, but I swear your father will regret each single time he used his belt to hurt you, each single time he lied to you about this demon-thing"

Tara stared at the Slayer silently, slightly bewildered at first. She tried to suppress the crooked smile appearing on her lips but did not manage completely. She hesitated, not knowing how to react to Faith's unexpected promise. Finally, she could not help herself: she turned to the brunette, grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly between her own fingers.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Now, Faith felt uneasy. She tried a slight smile, fidgeted her arm a little but did not quite remove her hand from Tara's. The blonde finally noticed the Slayer's discomfort and released her. Wishing to ease the awkwardness of the situation as soon as possible, the witch was, this time, the one to speak up:

"You know, the beating wasn't that bad," she said, and as Faith was about to protest, she immediately resumed: "I mean, my father hitting me with his belt or with something else did not happen really often. In fact, it probably did not happen more than three or four times for my entire life. My brother had been way more brutal with me than my father."

"This bastard…" Faith commented in a dark tone as Tara made a brief pause.

The blonde stared into space for a second then looked away from the brunette's inquiring gaze as she went on:

"It's not for this that I hate my father" she whispered in a darker tone than Faith had ever known her. "I hate him for making me believe for years that I was something -not even someone - horrible and nasty that could be dangerous for anyone who would be fool enough to care about me. I hate him for locking me down for hours, sometimes for days, and telling me it was for my own good. - Her voice trembled slightly – I hate him for making my mother his unwilling accomplice. I hate him for lying to me on purpose and making me that shy, fearful, awkward, weird girl. I hate him for letting me believe I wasn't worth anyone's love or care."

She fell silent and Faith saw at the way her chin trembled, that she tried to contain tears of rage.

"I know the feeling," The Slayer breathed.

"I know you do," Tara whispered.

They turned to each other and their eyes met frankly. Tara quickly wiped away tears at the corner of her eyes and tried a weak smile as she repeated:

"I know you do,"

Faith failed to find something to add, but the moment probably did not need anything more to be said. The brunette relaxed and both girls enjoyed the silent company for a long moment until Tara started to shiver with cold.

"You should go back inside," Faith commented. "You're going to freeze to death."

"I don't want to go inside. I like being here."

Faith did not answer but stood and went inside without a word at Tara's great surprise. She still had not decided how to react to the Slayer's departure when she came back with two steaming cups in her hands. Faith sat back beside her and held one of the cups to the blonde.

"You should drink this," she advised. "'Will warm you up."

She took a sip in her drink and gestured to Tara to do as well.

"What is it?" the blonde asked while warming up her hands with the hot cup.

"Irish coffee," the Slayer answered with a knowing smirk. "Sort of."

"I like it better with way much cream," Tara commented, considering the lack of said cream in her cup.

She nevertheless took a sip and enjoyed the hot feeling running though her veins as the liquid went down her body.

"Thanks," she mouthed as she drank some more. "It's very kind of you"

"I knew you'd like it" Faith commented. "So, where are we heading?" she added after a brief pause. "Back to Portland?"

"If you want to go back there to get a hold on Kira, you can give up on that idea," Tara answered. "I called the coven," she explained when Faith frowned. "They have no clue who she might be."

"Great," grumbled the brunette.

"She could be anyone, anywhere," Tara went on carefully.

"Great," repeated Faith.

"So, what do you think?"

"Well, maybe we could just do as planned and join up with the road on the coast and following it up to San Francisco?"

Tara smiled with relief but could not help asking:

"And what about Kira?"

"I'll call Giles about her. With all his contacts, he'll find the girl in no time. Meanwhile, we'll have some fun."

"Yeah," snorted Tara. "Just like we were supposed to when we came here."

"Don't be so negative," Faith protested. "There won't be Kiras at every corner"

"When have you become the optimistic gal?"

"We're heading to San Francisco," resumed the Slayer, completely ignoring Tara's question. "You really need to get laid, y'know"

Tara almost choked with her Irish coffee at Faith's unexpected comment, coughed once or twice before spitting her last mouthful of coffee.

"What?" she exclaimed when she was able to speak again.

"What what?" Faith smirked. "Think about it: When was the last time you get laid?"

As Tara opened her mouth to answer something, Faith shook her head and raised her hand to interrupt her:

"Okay, you don't remember, and that's perfectly normal. It was way too long ago. It explains all this grumpiness. You'll feel better later on"

Tara looked bewildered for a moment but it did not last.

"If you have reached that conclusion because you find me grumpy, then you need to get laid way more than me!"

"I knew you'd say something like that," Faith retorted. "But if you think about it, I'm naturally grumpy, which is not your case if I believe, not what I've been seeing for months, but what B told me about you. So, it doesn't have anything to do with grumpiness for me. Plus, you must be missing sex."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Missing sex?"

"Well, it's not like I've been extremely active these days, but I don't need to go on a crusade to get someone in my bed. I could have anyone if I wanted to."

"Do you mean that **I** need to go on a crusade to find someone?" asked Tara in an offended tone.

"I mean that it's been a long time and you probably forgot what to do to get someone to your bed. Plus, you're gay, and I'm not sure we'll find too many lesbians around here. And to add another level of difficulty, I'm sure you're not easy to please."

"Isn't it a good thing?" Tara replied, defensively. "I wouldn't sleep with anybody. Which is not your case obviously."

"Hey!" It was Faith's turn to sound offended this time. "I wouldn't sleep with anybody! There're lots of people I wouldn't bang!"

"Name one"

Faith looked taken aback by Tara's almost serious tone and she grimaced slightly at the blonde.

"Well," she hesitated. "This Mrs. Applefresh for example. Looks nice and all but…"

"A man," interrupted Tara. "You're straight. Name a guy. Not just any anonymous guy. A guy we know."

"I'm not sure we know the same guys." Protested Faith.

"We know some." Tara cut. "Let's take an example: Xander. But you can't say you wouldn't have sex with him 'cause I kind of remember you already did."

"You know about that?" asked Faith, a little bit surprised. "Five minutes of pleasure, years of trouble" she muttered immediately after.

Tara smiled at this but she nevertheless did not drop the matter.

"So?" She insisted.

"Giles!" the Slayer cried out. "I would never bang Giles!"

"Really? I heard you found him sexy when you first met him."

"You know about that too?"

Tara did not reply and just smiled knowingly at Faith.

"I hate you." The Slayer grumbled. "I was young and I just wanted to bother B. I would never…"

"Someone else?" Tara went on, trying to remain serious.

"I could tell you the name of Spike," Faith announced in a defeated tone. "But then, you'll tell me about that time in the bronze when I told him I could ride him at a gallop and…"

"Never heard about that one…" the witch smirked. "Looks, well… Interesting."

"So, I still have some secrets for you?"

"Looks like it"

"Good then."

They fell silent and finished off their cups of Irish coffee nearly at the same time. Then, Faith took back the cups and stood to go back inside.

"You should come inside now. It's late and cold."

"Just a few more minutes." Tara said. "I'll meet you in the room in five minutes, okay?"

"Okay," the Slayer replied as she turned on her heels to join the common room of the hostel. "But don't you think you made me forget about your need to get laid. We'll take care of that as soon as possible!"

"Yeah, I'm sure you will!' Tara grumbled and rolled her eyes.

Faith did not see her doing so, but she could picture the mimic as well as she had seen it, and smiled broadly, obviously very happy with herself.

* * *

_End of "Welcome to my own personal little hell"_

_To be continued in "Come back before dark"_


End file.
